Sins of the Past
by badkarma00
Summary: Sixth installment of the SHADE 'verse. Last chapter now posted. Thanks to all of you for your patience. Thanks even more for reviewing, and encouraging.
1. Chapter 1

Sins of the Past - Chapter One

Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.

Mal hobbled from his car to his office, leaning heavily on his cane. After three months of therapy and rehab, he still wasn't able to get around as well as he once had. And Simon had warned him he might never regain all of his mobility.

Mal sighed at the thought. He was used to being active. Going, doing, without a thought. He had taken that for granted. True, he'd been shot, stabbed, cut, injured dozens of times through his turbulent life. But the explosion that had injured him and killed Kathy Baker had done more damage than Mal had ever received at one time, even in Niska's hands. Thinking of Niska made Mal shudder a bit, and made him think fleetingly of Hoban Washburne. He still missed the little man. Figured he always would. He couldn't imagine how much more Zoe missed him.

But Zoe was moving on. She and Butler Tarrant were doing just fine it seemed to him, and Mal was glad for it. Zoe had been alone for too long, and Goldie seemed just the kind of man she needed. He was good to her, and would cheerfully die to keep her safe. Which placed him high on Mal's list of 'okay things about men involved with my women'.

Mal almost snorted at that. Any of them would cheerfully re-injure him if they heard him call them 'his' women. Inara especially. But that was how Mal thought. They were his. His friends, his crew, his people. His _family_. They were his to protect.

He left those thoughts behind as he limped into his office. Everyone was glad to see him, none more than Toby Bontrager. When Mal had come back to work three weeks ago, Toby had almost bowed in thanks, and immediately took a week's vacation. True, he had given Mal a week to get caught up, but the second week Mal was back, Toby was 'fishing in an undisclosed location'. He hadn't left any contact information, either.

Mal couldn't say he blamed the man. The office was a busy place, with Planetary Marshals still coming by from time to time to interview folks, look over evidence, and review case files. The Nine of Bickford Parish was only one of many, and the Argo Marshals Office was doing it's dead level best to roll up the rest of them, moon wide.

"Morning boss," Evelyn smiled. "Coffee on your desk, along with the night watch reports."

"You're a gift from heaven, woman," Mal assured her. Evelyn giggled lightly, then turned to answer her phone. Mal walked on into his office. Taking a seat, he sipped the always excellent coffee, then perused the night reports. Cattle missing, crops destroyed by off road riders, suspected drug operation that turned out to be a bunch of kids working to get a huge hot-rod tractor ready for the parish fair tractor pull. All in all, not too bad. He needed to see about those missing cattle, though. And try to find the vandals who had plowed through Mr. Hutchins field. That was taking money from folks pocket.

"Call for you, boss," Evelyn's voice came through his intercom. "I think it's Miss Inara." Mal picked up the phone at once.

"Sheriff speaking," he said in his most authoritative voice.

"Very impressive," Inara's smooth, educated voice floated to him over the com. "I told you to wake me before you left, Mal."

"You looked so peaceful, I couldn't," Mal replied defensively.

"I have things to do, you know," Inara's voice was only slightly agitated, so Mal was fairly sure she wasn't _really_ angry. Like 'sleep on the couch until further notice' angry.

"I'm sorry," he said as contritely as he could. He wasn't, of course, and she knew it. But saying the words seemed to work. Usually.

"Well, I'll be in town looking at that building of Mrs. Brown's today. You want to meet and have lunch? Or will you be too busy?"

"Never too busy for you, _ai ren_," Mal replied at once. He knew the answer to that one.

"Good. I'll meet you at the restaurant. Say about one?"

"One's good for me," Mal smiled.

"I'll see you then," Inara told him. "I love you," she added, her voice softer. Gentler.

"Love you more!" Mal said, then snapped the com off quickly to avoid the comeback. It was a game they played. He didn't always win, but figured he held his own. He stood, stiffly, and wandered out into the lobby again.

"Everything lookin' good this mornin'?" he asked. Evelyn nodded.

"Yes, boss. Two men are in court this morning, so we're slightly short handed, but things are quiet so it shouldn't be a problem. Toby's in his office, by the way. And the Greggs boys are looking into the vandalism. Said they thought they might know who was responsible, and they would 'counsel' with them." Mal grinned at that. The only 'counseling' those two knew how to do involved fists and bruises.

"I feel sure they'll take good care of it," he almost laughed. He headed down the hall to Toby's office. He found his Investigator looking over the same reports he himself had seen.

"See you're up early," Toby smiled, when Mal knocked lightly on the open door, then walked in to take a seat.

"Early bird gets the worm," Mal nodded.

"How about the rustlers?" Toby asked, pointing at the report on his desk. "This is the fifth one in just two months. We've always had a bit o' trouble with this, but never like now. This has got to be organized rustling, Mal. And I don't have a clue who's behind it."

"Any kinda pattern?" Mal asked.

"None that I can see," Toby admitted.

"Maybe I can let River take a look," Mal offered. "She's a rare genius. If there is a pattern to it, she may can see it."

"I'll take anything I can get," Toby assured him.

"I'll do that, then. Anything else of interest?"

"Just rumblings," Toby shrugged. "Still a lotta talk about the Nine, o' course. Nothin' specific, mind you, just rumors. Some folks think that the main group is lyin' low for now, on account o' the Marshals being on to'em. Others think they'll hit us back, and not be too much longer doin' it."

"What do you think?" Mal asked.

"I don't think so," Toby said flatly. "We hurt'em, and the Marshals are hurtin'em worse. To my mind, it ain't worth the trouble to go after a little outfit like ours that happened to get lucky in takin' one o' their satellite outfits down. Too much chance they'd lose more than they have already." He leaned forward.

"Problem is, with no criminal 'boss' so to speak, we're seein' more and more enterprising individuals tryin' to fill the void here in Bickford. We're still keepin'em stoppered for now, but I don't know that it'll last."

"I want us to stay on it," Mal informed him. "Once the new folks get done with their training, we'll have Blade and her crew back as a kinda strike force. We'll set them on anyone who looks to be settin' up any sort o' organized crime activity. That should help."

"Yeah, that oughta do fine," Toby smiled. Mal stood.

"Well, let's us drive out and talk to Mister Fletcher about his wayward cows. We might get lucky and they've all wandered home by now."

"And pigs'll fly," Toby snorted, but stood and got his hat.

"I'd like to see that, actually. . . ."

"Your portfolio is doing quite well, Mrs. Ironhorse. The latest round of stock purchases has nearly doubled in value, and the bond issue has already turned up two points. I, uh, hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of purchasing some of the bonds myself, on your advice."

"Of course not, Mister Jerrolds," River smiled sweetly at the man on the screen. "Anytime you want to follow me, feel free. Just remember," she cautioned, "I'm prone to gamble. I wouldn't want you to lose your shirt."

"I'll keep that in mind," Fredrick Jerrolds replied drily. "So far, though, you're batting one thousand. I don't let my business interfere with my representing you, however. Your patronage is far too valuable for that."

"I knew that without you telling me, Fredrick," River assured him. "If I didn't think I could trust you, you wouldn't be handling my money, or my business affairs. Is there anything else we need to discuss?"

"Not that I know of, ma'am," Jerrolds shook his head. "I'll look into the new acquisitions you mentioned, and send you a message if I manage to get them."

"That will be fine," River nodded. "Until next time." She killed the wave, and sat back, smiling. Her initial investments had done nicely. Her fledgling company was now looked at with envy, though no one knew who she was, aside from Jerrolds. And he didn't know the truth.

And she paid him well enough that he didn't want to know.

Rising from the cortex screen in shuttle two, she walked out into the passageway of the _Private Companion_. Pausing, she stretched out with her mind to check on everything and everyone.

Holly was napping in the engine room, taking a trick from Kaylee's book. He had strung a hammock similar to hers, and spent a good deal of his time there, in case he was needed.

Jayne was in the cargo bay, working out. She smiled at that, picturing his muscles working under the strain, and the sweat covered body that would result from the exercise.

Her daydreaming was jolted by a spike of anger from Liam Greggs. She concentrated for a moment, then smiled gently as she realized the source.

Chelsa, the girl that she and Jayne had found on Aberdeen, and then adopted, was apparently reading Liam the riot act over something. Probably the attractive young daughter of the family that had booked passage to Astra on this flight. River had seen the atypical 'farmer's daughter' eyeing Liam appreciatively at dinner.

Liam hadn't returned her looks, however, so River had to assume that Chelsa was angry at the girl, not Liam. But, since she couldn't march down to the passenger dorms and yank the other girl's hair out, she had to be content with making sure Liam knew where his bread was buttered.

Shaking her head in amusement at teen age love, River headed for the bridge, to check on their heading. As she walked, she reflected on the last six months.

Mal was healing, though he might never fully recover from the injuries he'd sustained in the blast that had killed Kathy Baker. He walked with a cane, and Simon was afraid he probably always would.

Zoe and Goldie seemed to be closer than ever, not that she and Jayne saw much of them anymore. Business had been picking up, with _Serenity_ and _Companion_ often passing each other going to and fro. She was glad the two of them had each other.

Inara had postponed opening her finishing school until Mal was back on his feet, but already it was the talk of the moon. She and Mal had bought a house in town, one large enough to serve as both a home, and a school. Once it was properly renovated, they wouldn't be around as often, which meant she wouldn't see much of them, either.

Simon was still at the clinic, though it had been enlarged by now to the point it was nearly a hospital. Not only did he care for the employees at Guilford, and their families, he also provided medical services to the entire community, which was some fifty miles from town. A long way to go, when you were sick or hurting.

Kaylee and her father, who had chosen to stay with them on Argo, had opened a mechanic shop not far from the plant. Though there wasn't so much in the way of shipping, machines were machines, and both Kaylee and her father, Caleb, had the 'touch' where any kind of machinery was concerned.

Kaylee's brother, Gerald, had also stayed, working now on _Serenity_, along with Rebecca Phillips, the daughter of one of Mal's deputies that had died in the line of duty recently. Kaylee's sister, Sophie, a nurse, had also stayed, working with Simon in the clinic. Once Simon and Kaylee's house was finished, Sophie would inherit the apartment over the clinic where the couple lived now.

All in all, things were going fairly smoothly for once, though the cost had been high. More than one had died, and several had been seriously injured, including Liam, who had taken a bullet to his chest to save Chelsa. As River settled into her seat, the only fly in the ointment was how to tell Jayne about her secret. She didn't expect him to react too badly, but she felt guilty about keeping it from him at all.

She'd make it up to him. Smiling, she went to work.

"What are you doing?"

Butler 'Goldie' Tarrant eased from beneath the engine he was working on, and looked up at Zoe. The warrior woman was standing nearby, weight on one leg and hip shot out to the side, looking down at him with a frown.

"Uh. . .workin'?" Goldie replied. Darn but Zoe looked good standing there like that. Except for that frown. . . .Goldie ran through a mental checklist entitled '_Things I Should Never, _EVER, _Do_'_, _but came up empty. He'd been a good boy for several days now.

"And why is it that you're layin' there, 'workin'?" Zoe made a quote mark with her hands.

"Um. . .it needed doin'?" Goldie answered, just as if he were a student taking an oral exam. And didn't know the right answer.

"Not today, it don't," Zoe informed him. "Haul your freight outta there, and get that grime off. You're takin' me on a picnic."

"I am?" Goldie immediately went through another mental checklist, this one called _'Things I should Never, _EVER_, forget_', but once more came up blank.

"You are," Zoe nodded firmly. "It's a beautiful day outside, and we're takin' advantage of it. Now let's get movin'."

"Yes'm," Goldie nodded, rising from the floor. "Won't be a few minutes," he promised, heading straight for the shower.

"Better not be."

Inara looked at the stack of paperwork waiting for her, and couldn't suppress a frown. She couldn't be mad at Mal for letting her sleep, but she _did_ have a great deal to do. There seemed to be an enormous amount of paperwork involved for something as simple as a finishing school. There couldn't be much more work involved in opening a real school.

_Better get to it, or it will still be here later, _she decided. Scarcely had Inara settled in at her desk when the cortex lit up. Sighing in aggravation, she reluctantly reached up and opened the wave. A severe looking woman appeared, and Inara recognized her at once as the Head Mistress of House Madrassa. A knot formed in her stomach.

"Mistress Selene, this is an unexpected pleasure," Inara put on her best business smile, and inclined her head respectfully.

"Inara, dear," the old hen purred. "You look lovely! How are you faring?"

"I'm very well, actually," Inara smiled again. "And how are you? You look wonderful, yourself."

"Pish," the hen cackled. "I'm an old and worn out woman, and you know it, child. Everything I have, that I can still feel, either hurts, or refuses to work. Life is catching up to me very quickly, I'm afraid."

"I don't believe that for a minute," Inara laughed, though it was strained. No one in Selene's position called just to chit chat. Especially not someone who had turned her back on the Guild.

"I'll get straight to the point, dear," Selene confirmed Inara's suspicion. "I've heard from the tribunal." Inara's heart threatened to seize. She had forgotten that. She had been gone for so long that she had long since forgotten that the Guild still had a hold over her.

"Oh?" she managed not to squeak. "After so long, I had wondered if I'd ever hear from them."

"Well, your case was deliberated for a long time," Selene replied, as if confiding a great secret to a star pupil. "There was a great deal of discussion, actually."

"May I ask what their decision was?" Inara fought not to hold her breath.

"The Guild has officially removed your status as a Companion, Inara," Selene told her swiftly. "That was a forgone conclusion, of course," the hen waved her hand in dismissal. "What took so long was a decision on the amount of remuneration you would be charged for violating your pact."

"I would have thought that the loss of my retirement would have covered that, Mistress," Inara said. "It was a sizeable sum, as I recall."

"That money was never rightfully yours, Inara, as I'm sure you're aware," the hen almost sneered in delight. "It was yours upon your retirement, not upon your being summarily dismissed. As per your pact with the Guild, that money is now forfeit, and the rightful property of the Guild."

"Then how much am I being forced to pay for my freedom?" Inara asked, her voice tinged with anger. The older woman leaned forward, eyes glittering with anger.

"Don't take that tone with me, you little tramp," she snarled. "You knew what would happen, when you turned your back on us."

"I asked how much," Inara fought to remain calm. This woman was dangerous, and could still cause trouble for her.

"Forty thousand credits," Selene announced triumphantly. Inara couldn't contain the gasp that escaped her lips.

"_Forty thou. . . ._" She cut herself off at that, fighting to regain her composure. "Surely that's excessive," she managed.

"Not at all," Selene replied airily. "We taught you, Inara. Housed and fed you, saw to your medical needs. To your every need, in fact. Surely you didn't think that the Guild would release one of it's star pupils without some form of compensation, did you?"

"I'm calling to let you know that you have two weeks to repay your debt to the Guild. After that, it will be out of my hands, and become a legal matter. I trust I don't have to explain what that means?"

"No, you don't," Inara's voice was cold, now. "I will require a signed receipt for the money, however, which clearly and expressly releases me from any future obligations to the Guild."

"You aren't in any position to be making demands, dear," Selene's voice was steel.

"Then it will become a legal matter, I suppose," Inara shrugged. "I'm not going to be held up by the Guild every year from now on. I'll pay you your forty-thousand credits in exchange for a complete and total release, _in writing_. Otherwise, we'll have to settle it in court."

Selene looked venomous, and Inara wondered at her courage. Apparently the past year or three had stiffened her own spine.

"Very well," Selene almost spat. "You'll have it. Two weeks, Inara. Not a day more." With that the screen went blank as the old hen cut the signal.

Inara sat stock still for some time, before burying her head in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.


	2. Chapter 2

Sins of the Past - Chapter Two

Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.

If you're reading this, then you're ignoring the story, since this is only a scene separator. HA!

River looked at Jayne across the small supper she had prepared for them. While on Astra she had purchased the makings of a romantic dinner, hoping to ease from there into her secret. Jayne caught her glance, and his hand froze midway between his plate and his mouth. He looked at her for a moment, then sighed, and placed his fork back on the plate.

"I know that look," he said wearily. "What is it?" River almost giggled, but managed to stop in time. She put on her 'innocent' look.

"What do you mean?" she asked coyly. "Can't I prepare a nice, romantic dinner for my _Zhang fu_?"

"It ain't the dinner," Jayne leaned back and crossed his arms across his massive chest. "And don't try and change the subject, or butter me up, neither. I seen that look before, and it means you're either up to somethin', or already _done_ somethin'. So just tell me what it is, so I can get back to my food."

River _did_ giggle, then, in spite of herself. Jayne snorted, sounding a great deal like a bull. Or a bear, she thought idly.

"I do have something to tell you," she admitted, placing her hands on the table in front of her. "I should have told you a while ago, I guess, but I didn't want to. . .that is, I wanted to be sure that it worked. . .well, I _knew_ it _would_, of course, but I didn't know how _well_ it would work, and then there are always contingencies, which I try to plan for, of course, but there's always something that you can't foresee, and well. . .things did work out very well, actually, after a few bumps as I worked out the system completely, but now. . . ."

"River, for God's sake!" Jayne fought the urge to pull at his hair. "Just tell me what it is. It can't be that bad." He paused for a moment, before asking, more timidly, "Can it?"

"It's not bad," River allowed, looking away from him, focusing on something to the side. "It's just that I did all this without consulting you, and when I think about it, I _should_ have, because we a_re_ married, and I shouldn't be making decisions, especially like this, without your input, although you probably wouldn't have _had_ anything to input, so to speak, since none of this is really anything you care much about dealing with, not that you _couldn't_ of course, once someone showed you how, it's just that you so seldom show any interest in these things. . . ." Jayne sighed as River went into another ramble.

"River, hush!" he ordered, and River's mouth snapped closed abruptly. Jayne nodded.

"Now, just tell me whatever it is, and be done with it. You know I ain't gonna be mad, whatever it is. So out with it, and stop confusin' me!" River nodded, fighting the smile that threatened to bloom, and reached into her bag, under the table. She withdrew a small black ledger, which she passed across the table to Jayne. He took it with some trepidation, as if it might bite.

"It won't hurt you," River assured him. Taking the volume, Jayne opened it. Column after column of numbers, some with transactions, dates, and amounts beside them, filled several of the pages. River waited patiently as Jayne flipped through the book. When he came to the last page, his eyes drifted down to a line titled 'current worth'. His eyebrows rose several inches at the figure written there. He looked over the book at his wife.

"What, uh, is this, exactly?" he asked.

"It's our portfolio," she beamed. "Isn't it impressive?"

"If that last number is what I think it is, it's a bit more than impressive, I'd say, baby girl. What is a portfolio? Exactly." He handed the book back to her.

"Well, since we've been together, I haven't really had anything to spend my money on," she said, and Jayne nodded. He paid for everything. Way it was supposed to be, far as he was concerned.

"Well, with our work being so regular, I'm actually making a good deal of money, Jayne," she reminded him. "And so, I took my money, and, some of yours," she added, moving on hurriedly, "and I began investing it. The book I just showed you is the result of those investments, up to this point."

"I should have told you earlier, Jayne," River looked at him, sincerely regretting that she hadn't. "I. . .I wanted to do something. This was all I could think of. I hope you aren't mad," she added, though she knew he wasn't. Probably.

Jayne studied her for a long moment. So long that River was starting to wonder if he _was_ mad. Then he shrugged.

"My wife tells me I'm married to a _gorram_ millionaire, and wonders if I'm mad," he shook his head in amusement.

"You were already a millionaire," River pointed out, though that was a closely guarded secret that only the two of them knew. Jayne had been left a very sizeable inheritance by Shepherd Book, of all people. Turned out that the Shepherd had known all about Jayne. _All _about him, and the alter ego he carried known only as Shade.

"Baby, I don't know what you want me to say," Jayne shrugged again. "I ain't mad, I don't care how you spend your money, and I love you. Will that cover it?" River leaped up from her seat, and enveloped him in a fierce hug.

"I knew you'd be happy," she breathed, kissing him.

Jayne never did finish his dinner.

This is my scene separator because nothing else works

"'i' wa' a goo' i'ea'."

"Stop talking with your mouth full," Zoe chided, grinning. Goldie held up one finger in a 'wait a second' gesture, and washed down the mouthful of ham sandwich with a drink of water.

"I said, this was a good idea," he repeated, smiling. "You were right, it is a beautiful day. Course, some o' that may be due to the company I keep," he added with a mischievous grin. Zoe almost giggled, but managed to turn it into a chuckle.

"You giggled!" Goldie accused at once. "You have to kiss me now, or I'm tellin' everyone you giggled. Ruin your reputation!" He leaned forward, pecking Zoe on the lips.

"You call that a kiss?" she demanded, and grabbed his head in both hands, planting her lips firmly to his. Food was forgotten as the two tasted each other's lips for a time. The wind had been blowing gently since they'd arrived, and suddenly shifted. Goldie's nose caught a familiar scent, one that was unwelcome for all it's familiarity. He broke away from Zoe's lips and lifted his head, sniffing the air cautiously.

"What are you doing?" Zoe demanded. "What's wrong," she asked, seeing the look on Goldie's face.

"You smell that?" he asked, brows furrowed in concern. Zoe lifted her head, sniffing.

"I don't smell anything. Why, what do you smell?" Goldie rose from their blanket, and walked over to the mule.

"Nothin', I hope," he told her, taking his rifle from the mule. He slung the weapon over his shoulder, allowing the sling to hold the weapon across his chest. "You sit tight. Let me go have a look-see."

"I'll come with you," Zoe replied, starting to rise. Goldie stopped her with a hand.

"Not this time," he told her. "Won't be but a minute." With that he walked off into the breeze, following his nose. Zoe watched him, concern on her face.

Goldie walked along the open field, occasionally stopping to once more sniff the air, and look around him. His trepidation grew as the smell became stronger.

Reaching the edge of the clearing, near a small stand of trees, he found what he'd feared. Taking a look, he murmured under his breath, and turned around, heading back to the mule, and Zoe. When he arrived, Zoe could tell that something was definitely wrong.

"What is it, Goldie?" she demanded. He looked at her, and she was shocked to see something close to fear in his eyes. Something she'd never expected to see.

"Picnic's over, baby," he said gently. "I want you to take the mule, and head back. Tell Mal he needs to get up here, pronto. And send for a couple of his deputies, too."

"What's going. . . ." Zoe started asking, but Goldie cut her off.

"Zoe, for once, do like I ask you, and don't ask a buncha questions I ain't got any answers for, okay?" His tone was firm, but his eyes were pleading. "Please, Zoe. Just hurry and get Mal." Zoe looked at him for a moment, then walked over to the mule. Getting in, she strapped in. As she started to crank the vehicle, Goldie laid a hand on her arm.

"Zoe, you drive straight there, and you don't stop for nothing, nor no one. I don't care what it is, you here me? You don't stop. And keep your gun handy," he added, still looking around him.

"I'm gonna want to know what this is about," she warned. He nodded.

"You will. Just get Mal, and some help. Quick as you can." Zoe nodded, fired up the mule, and headed out. Goldie watched her out of sight, then took another look around him.

"It can't be," he muttered to himself. "It just can't be."

This is my scene separator because nothing else is working and I'm tired of trying.

Mal walked into the small office-slash-home he and Inara shared, leaning on his cane only slightly. It irked him that he still needed it to get around, and he was determined not to use it anymore than necessary. He was about to call out to Inara when he heard the sound of a woman crying. Instantly his hand fell to his gun, and he eased through the house.

The sound was coming from Inara's office. Mal looked inside, finding Inara sobbing on her sofa.

"Inara?" Mal called gently. Her head shot up, and she made a frantic effort to wipe her eyes and face.

"M. . .Mal, I didn't hear you come in," she tried to smile.

"Ain't surprised," Mal frowned, crossing the room to be by her side. "All that cryin' and what not. What's wrong, _ai ren_?"

"I. . .I'm not feeling well," Inara told him, but Mal was looking in her eyes. His frown deepened.

"Inara, I know when you're lyin'," he told her gently. "Now, tell me what's got you all teared up like this." Inara sighed, looking at him. She'd have to tell him eventually, anyway. Why not now?

"I heard from the Guild today," she told him, wiping at her eyes again. "A tribunal has determined that I am to be expunged from the Guild. I knew that already, of course, but part of the tribunal's deliberation is to determine how much, if any, remuneration a departing Companion owes the Guild."

"Owes the Guild?" Mal looked puzzled. "I thought they took your retirement for that." It had been a sore spot for Inara, losing all that money. He didn't want it, truth be known, but he'd never said that. It was important to her.

"That was forfeit, I'm told," she explained. "In return for breaking my pact with the Guild, I have two weeks from today to repay them, or it becomes a Court matter. And the Guild owns the courts."

"So how much they want?" Mal asked, mentally going over how much money he had on hand, and where it was.

"Forty thousand credits," Inara almost wailed, and buried her head in Mal's shoulder. Mal took her without a thought, trying to soothe her. But his mind was numb.

_Forty thousand credits! _Wo de ma_, where am I gonna get that kind of money?_

He couldn't say that out loud, however.

"Hey, hey, now," he gently stroked her hair. "Don't be all teary eyed, now. We'll got the money, and pay them off. And that'll be that."

"Mal, we don't have even half that!" Inara was almost hysterical. "This is just Mistress Selene's way of getting back at me! No Companion I've ever heard of has ever had to pay such a ridiculous sum. It's tantamount to robbery, only legal."

"I said we'd get the money, and we will," Mal told her firmly. "Now you put all this outta your head, hear me? This ain't nothin' but a bump in the road, and we'll get over it, just like we . . . ." Mal was cut off by a knock at the door.

"Let me get that, _bao bei_," he whispered gently. Inara collapsed back onto the sofa, crying anew. Mal walked to the door, and cracked it open to find Zoe standing there.

"Zoe," Mal nodded. "What's up?"

"Need you to come with me, sir," Zoe told him crisply. "Goldie and me was out on a picnic, and he found something he says you need to see pronto. And said to bring a couple deputies with you, as well."

"Is this something that can wait, Zoe?" Mal asked. "I got me something I need to see to."

"Don't think so, sir," Zoe shook her head. "Whatever it is, Goldie's rattled. Bad. And that ain't like him, sir," she added. Mal digested that, and sighed again.

"Okay, I'll head out in a minute." Mal closed the door, and limped back into the small back room.

"'Nara, I'm sorry," he told her, walking over to her again. "I got a sheriffy thing I need to tend to. Somethin's up that I need to have a look at. I promise I won't be long. Will you be okay til I get back?"

"I'm fine, Mal," Inara tried to smile, but it was weak. "I just. . .everything was going so well, and now this!"

"I told you, leave it be. We'll get through this, and be done with it. I promise you. One way or another, we'll get it sorted."

"All right," Inara smiled again, stronger this time. Mal bent and kissed her, then rose.

"I'll be back, soon as I can." He was almost out the door when Inara's voice stopped him.

"Mal?" He looked back at her. "I am so sorry," she almost whispered. Mal smiled.

"I don't care how much it costs me to keep you around, Inara Serra. You bear that in mind, and dry them tears. I love you, woman. Ain't nothin' I wouldn't give up for you."

This is my scene separator. Did I mention that I've tried everything else, and nothing I've tried worked? Yeah, thought I had.

Mal and Zoe took his ground car back to the sight, Mal having called into the office and ordered his investigator, Toby Bontrager, and the Greggs boys, two of his deputies, to make tracks out there as well.

"You don't know what this is all about?" Mal asked, navigating along the road. Zoe shook her head.

"No idea, sir," she replied. "All I know is, whatever it is, Goldie was some shook by it. I ain't never seen him like that, Mal. Never thought I would, either," she added.

"He's seen a right smart," Mal nodded in agreement. "Anything that rattles him is somethin' I ain't eager to see."

"Been thinkin' that myself," Zoe nodded. "Turn here, sir," she pointed, and Mal eased the car off the road, into the clearing. He could see Goldie, rifle in hand, walking the edge of the clearing a short ways off, looking the woods over.

"That where it is?" Mal asked, as he and Zoe got out.

"No," Zoe looked puzzled. "He found whatever it was over there," she pointed to a spot at least seventy-five yards from where Goldie was at the moment. Seeing them pull in, Goldie had started their way. He walked up, still anxious, and looking about.

"Mal," Goldie nodded. "I'm sorry to have to bother you, but this here ain't good."

"What is it?" Mal demanded, his mind still working over Inara's problem.

_No, it's _our_ problem_, he reminded himself.

"It used to be a woman," Goldie said softly, and Mal's eyes widened at that.

"Used to be?" Zoe asked, eyebrows raised.

"I guess she still is," Goldie shrugged. "Only she's been dead a while, if I'm any judge. And she. . .you need to see it," he shook his head, breaking off his explanation. "Zoe, you might want to stay here," he added. Zoe snorted.

"I seen dead folks before, Goldie."

"Not like this you ain't," he warned, but didn't object when Zoe accompanied the two men across the field. Goldie was quiet as they walked, still looking around.

"You lookin' for somethin' in particular?" Mal asked.

"Just keepin' an eye out," Goldie replied off-handed, never ceasing his scanning of the area around them. They neared the edge of the wood, and Mal's nostrils caught the scent of decomposing flesh. The smell instantly made him think of the hell that had been Serenity Valley. A look at Zoe told him she was having the same thought.

When they reached the edge of the wood, Goldie stopped them with an outstretched arm, and pointed. Mal followed his finger, and blanched at what he saw.

Laying in the wood, maybe five yards into the tree line, was the body of a woman. Much of her flesh was decomposed already, but what was left was. . . .

"_Yesu_," Mal murmured. "What in God's name. . . ?" Zoe looked at the woman for a moment, then turned on her heels.

"I'll wait at the car," she told them, starting back.

"No, Zoe," Goldie almost jumped at her. "You wait near here, as you can. Don't be over there, so far away from us. Please?" he added, when Zoe's face showed irritation. She looked at him for a full minute, before relenting.

"Fine," she snorted, and walked back about thirty yards. Goldie sighed in relief, and turned back to Mal.

"What's got you so on edge?" Mal demanded. Goldie shrugged, but wouldn't look Mal in the eyes.

"This wasn't no accident, Mal," Goldie told him softly. "This here was done, purpose like."

"And you know that how?" Mal asked, looking over the body again.

"I'm a good hand with a knife, Mal," Goldie told him. "Kid might be better, maybe, but not many more are. Anywhere." The words weren't spoke as a brag, but simply as a plain truth. Mal nodded, having seen Goldie use a knife more than once.

"Man as did that, he knew what he was doin'," Goldie went on, once he had Mal's attention. "Knew real well."

"I don't see how any man can stand to do somethin' like this," Mal breathed. "This is. . .well, I ain't got no words for it. What kind of a man could do this?"

"One that enjoys it, Mal," Goldie almost whispered. "One that took a lot o' pleasure in making that woman hurt 'fore she died."

"How is it you know so much about all this, Goldie?" Mal asked, eyeing him closely.

"I seen somethin' like it before," Goldie looked haunted. "In the war. I hoped. . .I _prayed_, I'd never see anything like it agian."

"In the war?" Mal frowned. Goldie nodded.

"Mal, this man's like as not killed before, and'll do it again," Goldie's voice was urgent. "You need to get some help in here, and get looking. Not just for the man what did it, but for other victims." He paused.

"And you need to call the kid," he added finally. "He needs to see this."

"What? Why?" Mal was really looking at Goldie now.

"He's a better tracker than anyone I know," Goldie looked at Mal. "And you need him to be here, see this, before she's moved. He needs to see it," Goldie repeated. "And, if you'll take some more unsolicited advice, Have at least two men sit on this spot. And none of'em women. Includin' Blade," he added.

"Think she'll be sore at you for sayin' that," Mal chuckled, but Goldie shook his head.

"No, she won't. Not after she see's this." With that, Goldie walked back toward where Zoe was waiting, leaving Mal with a ship full of unanswered questions.


	3. Chapter 3

Sins of the Past – Chapter Three

Author writes for his own amusement and that of others. He makes no money for his efforts, hard though they are.

_ I'm using this as a scene separator because I can't get anything else to work, dammit._

River and Chelsa were on the bridge when Mal's wave came on. Chelsa was learning to fly, and River took every opportunity to show the girl more about the ship. River answered the cortex as Chelsa made a course correction.

". . .and then re-set the auto-pilot. Hello _Baba_," River smiled when she looked at the screen and saw Mal.

"'Tross," Mal smiled, though it was weak. "Teachin' the _nizi_ to fly, I see."

"Never ending job," River nodded. "What's wrong?"

"Need to talk to that no 'count man o' yours," Mal grinned, robbing the words of their sting. River nodded, and called Jayne to the bridge. She looked back at the screen.

"Anything I can help with?" she asked. Mal shook his head.

"Don't think so," he told her. "Just need your _zhang fu's_ expertise. Tracking, that is," he added when River frowned. She nodded.

"What's up?" Jayne asked, walking onto the bridge, Liam right behind. They had been working out in the cargo bay.

"Jayne, need a word," Mal said from the screen. River quickly shooed Chelsa and Liam off the bridge, leaving just her and Jayne.

"Sure, Mal," Jayne nodded, taking a seat. "What's wrong?"

"Goldie found a woman's body today," Mal told him. "She'd been cut upon somethin' awful, Jayne, and Goldie says he seen somethin' similar durin' the war. Called it a serial killer. I looked that up on the cortex. Didn't much like what I found." River's head shot up from her instruments as a spike of unease rolled over her from Jayne.

"Yeah?" Jayne grunted.

"Goldie says you need to see it, 'fore we move her," Mal went on. "Want you to see can you track on it. Might get an idea how she got there. And how she got the way she is."

"Goldie around where I can talk to him?" Jayne asked casually.

"No," Mal frowned. "Why?"

"Nothin'," Jayne shrugged. "Just wondered. What else did he say?"

"He didn't say much, but he ain't hardly let Zoe outta his sight, since. She's about to explode, I think," he chuckled.

"That's a good idea," Jayne nodded. "You need to make sure that Inara and Kaylee don't get out and about alone, neither. Or Sophie, comes to that, or Rebecca. In fact," Jayne added, "ought not let any of them women around the plant be off on their own. Might have one of your men patrol the area at shift change, be watchful for anyone don't fit in."

"Jayne, I get the feelin' you and Goldie know more about this than you're sayin'," Mal said slowly. "I wanna know why."

"Just takin' precautions, is all," Jayne shrugged again. "If he is a serial killer, then he likely attacks his victims in a moment where they're alone, and not expected anywhere for a time." Mal considered this, but was clearly not convinced.

"I'm gonna want to know about this, Jayne," he warned. Jayne nodded.

"If there's anything to tell ya, I'll tell ya, Mal. How soon can we get home?" he turned to River.

"Twenty-one hours," she replied at once, having already done the math.

"We'll be there tomorrow, Mal," Jayne turned back to the screen. "Best we can do."

"We'll be waitin'." Mal cut the wave, and Jayne stood. River could feel the raw emotion running off him.

"What's wrong, Jayne?" she asked, concerned. Jayne looked at her, and River bit back a gasp at the haunted look in his eyes.

"When we hit dirt," he spoke softly, "you and Chelsa don't step one foot off this boat if me or the boy ain't along. I mean not even just to look around. Understand?"

"Jayne, what's going on?" River asked.

"Do. You. Understand?" Jayne bit the words off one at a time, and River nodded shakily.

"I understand."

"Good. I'm gonna have a word with the girl, make sure we ain't got a repeat of the last time. Make sure we get home soon as we can." Without waiting for a reply, he walked off the bridge, in search of Chelsa.

River watched him go, concern etched on her face. Jayne was. . .scared, she realized finally. Not for himself. For her. And the other women in _Serenity's_ little family.

_Might be rough. Always is._

Supper that night was quiet. Jayne was absorbed in what Mal had told him, and no one said much, recognizing his mood. Laughter could be heard in the lower lounge as the farming family enjoyed their meal, but it didn't penetrate the mood around the table. After they'd eaten, Jayne took Liam down to the cargo bay. Chelsa helped River clear the table. She was in full pout mode.

"Why can't I get off the ship?" she whined. "I don't understand why I have to stay on board."

"Chelsa," River looked at her ward seriously. "Whatever is happening at home, Jayne wants to protect us from it. You _will_ do as you are told. Remember the last time you disobeyed?" The girl flushed at that, remembering how close Liam had come to dying because of her.

"If you disobey, then there won't be any more flying lessons," River threatened. "We may well leave you planetside full time, and you can go to school in town. And, I imagine you may well eat standing up for several days, once Jayne is finished." Chelsa's flush deepened at the implied threat, and she nodded.

"Good," River nodded. "Now, help me with the pots."

_I been to the edge. All's there is is more space._

"Boy," Jayne looked at Liam. "This here is somethin' I don't want you repeatin'. Somethin' happenin' at home, and it's bad. There may be a man runnin' 'round killin' women folk. If that's what's happenin', that man's a monster, understand?" Liam nodded, thinking about his own mother.

"When we hit ground, I want you watchin' that girl like a hawk. I don't want her off this ship for _any reason_. _Dong ma?_ You sit on her, you lock her in her bunk, you do whatever it takes, but you _keep her on this ship_. You see someone ain't supposed to be around, you call Mal or one o' his deputies, but you stay with _her_. Someone tries anything, you shoot first, and ask about it later. Got all that?"

"I do," Liam nodded seriously.

"Good man," Jayne placed a hand on Liam's shoulder. "Maybe this is all nothin', okay? But in case it ain't, I want us watchful. I'm dependin' on you."

"I won't let you down, boss," Liam promised.

"I know that, son," Jayne smiled dimly. "You ain't never since the day you went to work here. Just mind what I said." With that Jayne left the younger man, heading up the stairs, mind still racing.

Liam watched him go, wondering what could have spooked the man he would have sworn didn't fear anything.

_THIS IS THE ONLY WAY I CAN FIND TO MAKE A STUPID SCENE SEPARATOR._

_Private Companion_ settled gracefully onto the pad at Guilford's, having made a burn home after the wave from Mal. Jayne opened the bay door as soon as the ship was down, to see Mal waiting for him.

"Made good time," Mal said by way of greeting.

"Got a good pilot," Jayne tried to grin, but it didn't reach his eyes. Mal didn't miss the tension flowing about the big man, nor the fact that Liam Greggs was standing ready with a rifle. Jayne walked down the ramp, heading to where Mal's ground car was waiting. Before he was half-way there, River came hustling out as well.

"Wait for me," she called. Jayne and Mal both stopped.

"This ain't somethin' I think you wanna see, 'tross," Mal said quietly. "It ain't somethin' I wanna see again, comes to that."

"River, you should. . . ." Jayne began.

"Going," River cut him off, her voice ringing with finality. "I need to see." Jayne looked at her for a moment, then finally shrugged. River hurried to catch up. Jayne looked at Liam.

"Mind what I told you," was all he said. Liam nodded, taking up a post at the open door. Mal wanted to ask what that was about, but figured he wouldn't get a straight answer anyway, so didn't.

"Goldie comin'?" Jayne asked.

"Already out there," Mal admitted. "Been there since early on, in fact."

"Good," was all Jayne had to say. The three of them piled into the car, and Mal drove them to the scene. No one spoke during the trip, each of the three lost in their own thoughts.

When they arrived, Jayne noted that Blade and Wart were there as well, and nodded. Mal noted it, but again remained silent. Goldie met them at the car, and he and Jayne exchanged a glance, but said nothing.

"River, you really oughta wait here," Mal said gently, trying again. River only shook her head. She needed to see what had scared Jayne so. Mal shrugged helplessly, and led them out to the body. The walk across the field seemed to take a long time.

As they approached the field, their nostrils were assaulted again by the scent of decomposing flesh. River blanched slightly, and Mal offered her a mask, which she took thankfully, placing over her nose and mouth. Jayne shook off the offer. He'd smelled worse.

Then, they were there. Jayne looked at the body, and River could feel the despair roll off of him in waves that buffeted her. He moved over to the body, examining it closely without touching anything, and studying the ground around it. He slowly moved around the victim, taking several minutes to examine the ground. Finally he stood, and walked back over to Mal.

"Nothin'," he murmured. "Whoever put her here, was careful. And she's been here a good while. Any sign he mighta. . . ." He broke off as something caught his eye, and walked back to the body. He knelt at the poor woman's side, drawing his knife. As Mal watched, Jayne worked the blade under the woman's body, and slowly drew it back, pulling something shiny from beneath her. He picked it up, studying it closely.

Mal heard a muffled curse from Goldie at that. Jayne looked at him, eyes hard, and nodded. In his hand was a coin.

"All right, that's it," Mal said, nearly angry. "I wanna know what it is you two are keepin' from me, and I wanna know right now!" The two men exchanged a look, and then both nodded.

"We'll need to sweep the area," Jayne told his boss. "He likes to watch."

"I done did that," Goldie assured him. "Wherever he mighta been hidin', I can't see no sign of it."

"'He?'" Mal asked.

"He," both me nodded in unison. "I 'spect you've ordered a coroner out to get the body?" Jayne asked. Mal nodded.

"He'll likely find another coin, like this one," he handed Mal the offending item, "stuffed down her throat."

"And you know that how?" Mal demanded, getting more angry by the minute.

"We know him," Goldie admitted. "Knew him, I should say," he amended. "Long time ago." He turned haunted eyes to Mal. "He's a monster, Mal. Complete sociopath. Ain't got a feelin' one for nothing or no one. Like I said, this won't be his only victim."

"You two knew all this, and just now told me?"

"It ain't him," Jayne shook his head. "It can't be. Ain't possible."

"Him who?" Mal demanded.

"We called him Ghoul," Goldie replied. "Never knew his real name. Didn't come up in the conversation."

"Conversation," Mal stated, irate. "You two knew what this was. . . ."

"It ain't _him_!" Jayne almost shouted, and River, silent and motionless until now, jumped at the sound. Instantly contrite, Jayne walked to her side. She nearly folded up against him.

"I need to get her away from this," he said, and guided River back toward the car. Mal followed, Goldie by his side.

"So what about this guy, this. . .Ghoul? was it? How is it you two know someone like this, and didn't say nothin'?"

"We thought we took care of it," Goldie said quietly. In front of them, Jayne stiffened slightly, but said nothing, his arm wrapped tightly around River's shoulders.

"Well, looks like you was wrong!" Mal replied hotly. "Seein' as how we're lookin' at his work, 'cordin' to you two!"

"It. Ain't. Him." Jayne bit the words out, teeth clenched tightly. "Ain't no way it's possible."

"Kid, I want to agree, but that coin. . . ."

"How do you know it ain't him?" Mal demanded. Goldie looked at him, and again Mal noted the haunted look in his eyes. Jayne had it too.

"We killed him, Mal," Goldie almost whispered. "Laid a trap for him, and killed him. Years ago."

_Have I mentioned all the trouble I've had with scene separation? I have? Oh good, no need to go through it again, then, is there?_

Jayne looked up as Blade walked across the field toward them. Wart was still near their car, blocking access to the clearing.

"Is it him, Shade?" Blade asked, and River noticed that the normally confident warrior woman seemed shaken.

"No." Jayne answered shortly. He caught himself, and sighed.

"I admit, it does look like his work," he told her more gently. "But you know as well as I do. . . ."

"You know him too?" Mal almost screeched, coming up on the conversation.

"Know _of him_, yes," Blade nodded. "They used me as bait for the trap," she admitted. Mal's anger eased at that. Blade had offered herself to this man in an attempt to stop him. She didn't deserve his ire.

For that matter, none of them did. He frowned at himself. He was letting his concern over Inara influence how he acted toward his friends. River frowned as Mal's thoughts reached her, but said nothing. She was still shaken, herself. But she would talk to Inara when they got back.

"Mal, if this is what it looks like," Jayne said quietly, "then you got a real problem on your hands. He's a stone killer. Only pleasure he gets in life is tormentin' the women he takes, afore he kills'em. He's like a mad dog, only he's smart. Crafty, like. I. . .it can't be the same man!" he broke off.

"It looks like his work, kid," Goldie muttered. "I don't wanna believe it neither, but there it is."

"You helped bury him, Goldie!" Jayne objected, his voice a harsh whisper. The other man nodded.

"That I did. I don't understand it neither, kid." River was shaking now, as the emotions of those around her threatened to overwhelm her.

"I need to get River back home," Jayne told Mal. "I can't help you no more, anyway. There ain't a trail to follow," he shrugged helplessly. "And you like as not won't find anything here useful. Like I said, he's crafty. Smart."

"All right," Mal sighed. "I need to contact the Marshal's office, I guess," he added, mostly to himself. "This is like you say, we'll likely need some help." He looked past Jayne to where Toby Bontrager's care was pulling in, followed by the coroner's van. And another vehicle as well.

"Great," he muttered. "Newsies."

"We're goin'," Jayne said at once, and Mal nodded.

"You two and Goldie take my car," he ordered. "I'll have Toby run me by to get it once we're done here. Thanks for comin' out, Jayne."

The three of them moved out toward the car, Blade walking along with them.

"What are we going to do?" she asked. "We can't let this go on."

"Not our job, Blade," Goldie replied. "This time, there's law around. Let Mal deal. Him and the Marshal's."

"You know how this _hundan_ works, Goldie," Blade's voice was almost vibrant with concern. "This is _everyone's _problem. Sides that, me and Wart _are_ the law, now."

"It ain't the same man," Jayne repeated. "There ain't no way."

"You said yourself, it looks like him," Blade objected.

"Don't mean it _is_ him," Jayne replied stubbornly. "And he's _dead_." Just then the two newsies, a man and a woman, walked up on the two.

"Hey, can we get a word with you folks?" the woman asked. The man lifted a camera to take their picture. Jayne instantly shielded his wife from view.

"You take that picture, and I'll stomp you," he warned. The man looked at him.

"We've got a right to report the news," the woman told him defiantly. "And since you're here, you're news."

"We got a right to our privacy," Jayne replied, looking at the man, who had once again raised his camera. "You think I'm playin', go right ahead and take your picture. You'll regret it." The man faltered again. Blade stepped in just then.

"Folks, you aren't supposed to be over here, just yet," she smiled. "It's still a crime scene, and we don't want to contaminate it. Let the coroner do his job, and I'm sure the sheriff will be over shortly to suss things out with you, okay? You know he'll treat you fairly," she added. The woman conceded that point, but gave Jayne a scathing look.

"I won't forget how you threatened us," she warned. Jayne snorted.

"I don't make threats, lady," Jayne informed her. "And I better not be readin' 'bout myself no time soon. Don't you forget that, either." With that he took River toward the car, still shielding her from the camera. Blade watched the others go, then turned to the reporter.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll forget all about them being here," she smiled. "He meant what he said. They've had a hard time, and he wants them left in peace. That's not too much to ask, is it?" The woman reporter looked at Blade for a moment, then nodded.

"Thanks," Blade smiled sweetly, though what she really wanted was to rip the woman's face off. She walked over to where Wart was still standing guard.

"Why'd you let those buzzards through?" she demanded.

"I didn't," he admitted. "I was talking to Toby, and they just walked right by. I seen you coming, so I left them for you to stop. What did they say?"

"Goldie thinks it's the Ghoul," she shuddered at the name. "Kid says it ain't possible, but he's shook. I don't know what to think," she admitted, looking at the ground. "I'm not. . ._scared_, exactly, Wart. But I'm worried. What if he comes after me?"

"Have to get by me first," Wart said flatly, his eyes scanning the area around them. "He likely can," he admitted grudgingly, "but by then you'll be where you can put him down. So don't worry over it."

She smiled gently at Wart's protective gruffness. Suddenly she leaned over and kissed him.

"I really do love you, y'know," she whispered. He looked at her, eyes dancing

"That's good," he replied evenly. "At this point, you're stuck with me."

_And I have to stop yet again, here, and insert a scene separator. It's enough to make me quit writing. Well, almost_.

The ride back to Guilford's was tense, to say the least. River was once more buffeted by the thoughts coming from Jayne, and from Goldie. Both were in turmoil.

"I'm tellin' ya, it _ain't him_!" Jayne was insisting, though River could tell his argument was weakening. "It can't be," he added, his voice taking on a note of desperation.

"I'd agree, kid, except. . .well, it looks like him, that's all. I mean, right down to the way the cuts are done! And that coin! If they find the other coin, that pretty much tears it."

"Goldie, _Ghoul is dead_. You helped me bury him, you and Wart. _Bury him_. Even if he was still alive then, there's no way he escaped from that hole. _He's dead_!" River whimpered at the emotion of Jayne's outburst, and he was instantly sorry. He wrapped her in his arms.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered. "I. . .I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say.

"It's okay," she assured him. "Not your fault. I know you're hurting. Scared."

Jayne didn't bother to contradict her. There wasn't any point. He _was_ scared. For her, for the girl, for every woman he knew, and for them he didn't.

_Please, please, it can't be. Not again._

_I really hate having to do this, you know? If only the old way worked I wouldn't have to. But it don't. And Jane, I tried that idea. It didn't work. _

The car pulled into the small parking area just off the pad, and the three exited. Goldie headed straight for _Serenity_.

"Going to check on Zoe, and get ready for our run tomorrow," he informed Jayne. "Watch yourself, kid. He's got powerful reason to hate us all." Jayne nodded, as he and River headed for their own ship. River aimed them toward Mal and Inara's small abode instead.

"Need to see Inara," she said.

"What for?" Jayne asked.

"Not sure," River admitted. "Just know there's a problem. We need to help." Jayne shrugged, and the two of them headed that way. Jayne knocked on the door. After a minute, the door cracked open, revealing Inara's tear streaked face.

"Jayne! River!" Inara tried to smile, wiping at her eyes and face. "I wasn't. . .what can I do for you?"

"We want to visit," River told her. "Want to help," she added. Inara frowned.

"Did Mal tell you. . . ."

"_Baba_ didn't say anything," River held up a hand. "I can feel your anguish from out here. We want to visit." Inara seemed on the verge of saying no, then shrugged. She stepped back, opening the door wider, and allowed the couple into the house. She walked back to the sofa, and fell on it. Jayne and River took a seat as well.

"What's wrong?" River demanded. Inara looked at her for a time, then finally shrugged. It couldn't hurt to tell her, and might help her feel better.

"I heard from the Guild," she told River despondently. "I owe them forty-thousand credits in recompense for leaving the Guild prior to my pact being fulfilled. I have two weeks in which to pay, or I'll be hauled before an Alliance court, which will probably order me into indentured servitude to the Guild until the debt is settled."

"That's. . . ." Jayne started, then caught himself. "Ain't right," he muttered.

"I don't understand," River frowned. "You owe _them_ money?"

"Yes," Inara replied. "My pact provided for a clause in which, should I leave the Guild early, for any reason, then they had the right to determine if I owed them any restitution for their training. I spent years in school at their expense. I received a high level education, in addition to the marital arts I learned. Plus room, board, medical. The cost is high," she sighed. "I didn't think it would be this high."

"So, it's just the money, right?" Jayne asked, his face thoughtful. "I mean, they ain't threatenin' you with nothin', so long as you come up with the money? Is this a one time thing, or will they be hittin' you for money all the time?"

"Yes, Jayne, it's just the money," Inara fought not to sigh. "It's _just_ the matter of _forty thousand_ Alliance credits. And yes, it will be a one time thing, since I demanded a writ of release from the Guild, in exchange for the money they claim I owe. A full and binding release, stating that any obligation I have to the Guild is ended."

"I'm very glad we came to visit, then," River smiled, and Inara looked at her in bewilderment. "We can help you, Inara." She looked at Jayne. "Can't we, _Zhang fu?_"

"'Course we can!" Jayne looked affronted that she'd had to ask, and River giggled. Inara flushed.

"I don't think you two understand the enormity of the problem," she said. River smiled.

"Oh, I think we do," she stood. "Get dressed Inara, and I'll fly us into town. We need to send a wave, but we can do that as we fly. We'll take the money from your account, _Zhang fu_?" she turned to Jayne. "Your money is easier to get to than mine."

"Sure," Jayne nodded, standing also. River turned back to Inara.

"Come, Inara," she extended her hand. "I will explain while you make yourself beautiful again by washing away your tears."

_Groan mutter complain. Groan mutter complain. Groan mutter complain. That's enough for this one I think._

"I can't take your money," Inara said flatly, once River had outlined what she had in mind.

"Why not?" Jayne asked, looking at her closely. "'Cause it's mine?" His voice almost sounded hurt, rather than angry.

"Of course not!" Inara replied at once. "You know better than that, Jayne! But this is my problem, and I'll handle it. That's all."

"Family, Inara," River replied, entering a cortex address. They were in one of _Companion_'s shuttles. "We do for family, as Jayne likes to say." Jayne nodded.

"That's right, and you're family. All I got," he added, and Inara felt the hurt in his voice at the memory of the family he'd lost.

"Jayne, it's not that I don't appreciate it," she soothed. "But you and River can't possibly afford this!"

"We can," Jayne told her flatly. "It ain't a problem."

"How?" Inara demanded. "Remember, Jayne, I know how much the two of you make working for Mal. And it's not enough."

"Let's just say that Jayne and I work because we want to," River smiled. "Not because we have to. Trust me, Inara, this isn't a problem. I'd never lie to you," she added. "Nor would Jayne."

"Nope," Jayne nodded.

"And you can either co-operate with us," River smiled sweetly, "or I'll just do it behind your back. Since I'm going to do it, anyway, you may as well help me. It'll be easier."

"She means that, too," Jayne almost smirked. "She gets set on somethin', that's it."

Inara looked to be wavering, and finally Jayne sighed in exasperation.

"God's sake, Inara!" he exclaimed. "All you done for me, let me help ya where I can. I got plenty o' money, and I don't spend it on much, 'cept River and the girl."

"Where did you get that kind of money, Jayne?" Inara asked softly.

"It was left to me, while back," Jayne admitted. "Rich man died, left me everything in his will. Never bothered to say anything, since by that time I was thinkin' on _Serenity_ as home, and all o' you as family. Even Mal," he added, smiling. Inara had to laugh at that, despite the situation. Suddenly, something clicked in her mind.

"You were the one who left the money for Kaylee's family!" she almost whispered. Jayne looked slightly embarrassed.

"Might'a been," he didn't quite admit.

"He was," River confirmed, drawing a scowl from Jayne, which she cheerfully ignored.

"Why didn't you tell her it was you?" Inara demanded. "Jayne, she would have never been able. . . ."

"That's why, right there," Jayne replied honestly. "I don't want her feelin' beholden to me. Just wanted her and her family to get a chance to start fresh. I want Kaylee thinkin' on me as her friend, and not as the guy what gave her family that money. _Dong ma?_" Inara nodded in understanding. She looked at River.

"I didn't know, either, until it was done," she admitted. "He hides things very well. Now, will you help us help you? Or must I go behind your back?"

"Only if we make it a loan," Inara replied, afraid to believe her good fortune.

"Not a chance," Jayne snorted. "There's no loan, no nothin', 'cept us helpin' a friend. And that ain't open to discussion, neither," he added, when Inara started to object.

"Jayne, why?" she asked. He looked crestfallen.

"You gotta ask that, then the why don't matter, Inara," he just shrugged.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Jayne," she told him, hand resting on his knee. "But I should be able to pay you back!"

"Ever think I'm payin' _you_ back?" he challenged, and Inara blinked at that. "You helped me, Inara. Made my life a whole lot better than I ever imagined it might be. I can't never do enough for you to pay for that. And that don't even take into account windin' up with River. And lotta that was you, too."

"I owe you for all that," he continued. "This here ain't rightly no way to pay you back for all that, but it's somethin' I can do. Let me," he almost pleaded. Inara felt her eyes well with tears.

"All right, Jayne," she nodded. "Thank you so much," she added, hugging the big man fiercely. Jayne returned it after a moment of shock, looking at River over Inara's shoulder. River fought the urge to giggle at Jayne's look of consternation.

"Okay, the wave is going through," River announced at the ping. "Inara, I'll probably need some information."

The shuttle flew on, toward town. Even though things were dark, there were always small points of light, here and there.

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_Author's note: I plan to update every Friday at the least. I will probably update during the week as well, but won't promise that every week, or what day it will be. Depends on. . . .well, stuff, you know. _

_Meanwhile, I hope you're enjoying the story. It will develop a bit slow, because, as usual, it's a long story. I'm using this to flesh out the characters a bit more, with respect to the Shade 'verse, and will probably use it to set up the next story, which, if it gets written, may be the last Shade fic. We'll see what happens. _

_Meanwhile, happy reading._

_Bad_


	4. Chapter 4

SINS of the PAST – Chapter Four

_Author owns no rights whatsoever to Firefly. Original characters are something else, again, hee!_

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Mal walked slowly from Toby's car up to the house. He'd been awake for a long time, now, and he was tired. He noted absently that the plant was pretty much shut down for the night. It was later than he'd thought.

His leg was hurting something fierce, too. Toby had insisted that he get some sleep, offering to take the lead, notifying the Marshal's office. Mal hadn't shared what Jayne and Goldie had told him with Toby, and felt slightly guilty about it. But until he knew a bit more, he wasn't saying anything about it.

He walked into the house, surprised to find it dark. He went through the small structure hurriedly, but found no sign of Inara.

_I shouldn't have left her like that_, his mind whirled. Inara had been despondent over that business with the Guild. What if she. . . .

_No, not Inara_, Mal shook his head at his own foolishness. _Inara's stronger than that._

He was about to go over to the plant, to see if Inara had gone to visit Simon and Kaylee, when he heard the roar of a shuttle. He walked outside in time to see one of _Companion_'s shuttles settling into it's dock. He hadn't even noticed it missing.

He started for the ship, thinking that Inara might have taken the shuttle to town. He met her coming down the ramp, and couldn't miss the smile on her face.

"Mal!" she cried, and hugged him fiercely. Surprised, but pleased, Mal returned her embrace.

"What's come over you, 'Nara?" Mal asked, chuckling. "When I didn't find you home, I was worried. Where you been off to?" He looked up to see Jayne and River walking off the ship behind her. "Keepin' bad comp'ny I see," he jibed, and River giggled. Mal noticed that Jayne was scanning the area around the ship.

"Mal, oh Mal," Inara looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes. "It's all taken care of! Everything with the Guild is fixed! I have an attorney who will work out things with the Guild. He's very experienced in these matters, and says it shouldn't be any trouble to lay all this to rest!"

"That. . .that's great, honey!" Mal exclaimed.

"I know, isn't it?" Inara smiled brightly, her laugh peeling off the buildings around her. "Now we can get on with our lives. I can open my school, and. . . ." She trailed off, seeing how tired Mal was.

"Mal are you okay?" she asked, her own joy forgotten. "You look so tired, _ai ren_. Let's get you inside. I'll make you something to eat, and you can rest. No more sheriff work until tomorrow, _dong ma?_" Mal nodded slightly, letting her take his hand.

Inara led Mal toward their small house. She looked back over her shoulder, though, at River, mouthing 'thank you' to the smaller woman. River blew her a kiss, then took Jayne's hand.

"Time we talked," she said, looking up at him.

"'Bout what?" Jayne asked, looking down.

"You know very well, 'what'," River frowned. "I have waited patiently through all of this. Now that it's out in the open, I want to know what's happening. And what has you and the others so spooked about all this."

"You ain't read it already?" Jayne asked. "I don't see no way any of us could have kept it from you. For that matter," he added, "I don't see no way you could have beat off all our thoughts about it. They had to be loud, to you."

"They were," she admitted. "But disorganized. Fearful, dark, questioning. None of you thinking clearly."

"Yeah, that's how it'd be, all right," Jayne agreed. "I. . .I don't really wanna talk about it right now, baby girl," he told her honestly. "I need to think on things. Lotta different things. Maybe tomorrow, okay?"

"No, it's not 'okay'," River shook her head. "But I will allow it, for now," she added. "But you won't keep putting this off forever, Jayne. I want to know what could frighten all of you like this."

"We'll see," was all Jayne said in reply. He walked down the ramp.

"I'm goin' to see Goldie for a bit," he told her.

"I'll just come along, and visit Zoe, then," River told him, and run her arm through his. Jayne sighed, and nodded. They walked toward _Serenity_ together.

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Zoe sat at the galley table across from Goldie. He knew she was irate, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

"You want to explain to me what's been eatin' you for the last two days?" she demanded. He shook his head.

"Nothin'," he lied, not looking up. "Just. . .bad memories, that's all."

"Of what?" Zoe asked. She wasn't as put out as he might think, but she _was_ concerned.

"Just. . .stuff, Zoe," Goldie waved in dismissal. "I promise, I'll do better."

"I don't want you to do better," she snorted. "I want you to _be_ better. Only way that's gonna happen is if you work out what's buggin' you. I know it's got something to do with that poor thing out there in the woods. And I know you didn't put her there, so that ain't it."

"How do you know I didn't?" Goldie's head came up. He wasn't challenging her, she recognized. He was. . .maybe he was asking for help in the only way he knew how.

"Cause I know you," she replied bluntly. "If you were capable of that, you wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be with you. And you damn sure wouldn't be sharing my life, or my bed." Her voice rung with finality at that, and he smiled.

"Thanks, Zo'," he murmured. "I appreciate that."

"Then what's the problem?" she demanded again. He was saved from answering by the buzzer on the airlock. Goldie almost jumped to his feet.

"I'll see who it is!" he called over his shoulder, already out of the galley.

"This ain't ended!" Zoe yelled at his back, then sat back into her chair, frowning.

Goldie ran down the stairs to the airlock, then paused to loosen his gun in it's holster before looking out the port. When he saw Jayne he opened to lock.

"What's up, kid?" he asked, then saw River standing with him. "Hi, River. Can't let him out alone after dark, huh?" he laughed. River smiled at him.

"Where's Zoe?" she asked, following Jayne into the bay.

"Galley," Goldie replied, closing the door, and locking it. River didn't miss that, but didn't comment on it either.

"Okay," she smiled again, and started up the stairs. Jayne watched her out of sight, then turned to Goldie.

"I been thinkin'," Jayne started.

"Well, that's a first," Goldie snorted. "Pig'll be flyin' now, I guess."

"Shut up," Jayne growled. "Like I said, I been thinkin'. We always assumed The Ghoul was alone. But what if he wasn't? What if there was two of'em? Or worse, what if'n we got the wrong guy?"

"He went dead after Blade, just like he had the others," Goldie shook his head. "It was him, kid."

"But what if it wasn't him?" Jayne pressed. Goldie looked at him.

"Then we screwed up," Goldie said flatly. "And we let the son-of-bitch get away, on top of everything else. What makes you think on this, now?"

"It can't be the same man," Jayne sighed. "Goldie, I know that man was dead. And we buried him in a deep hole that no one had no cause to look into. He can't be alive."

"I ain't sayin' he is, kid," Goldie shrugged. "But I know what we seen today, and I'm tellin' you straight, that was Ghoul's work. I seen it too many times not to recognize it."

"Maybe it was someone else who'd seen it like that," Jayne pointed out. "Someone who knew what his work looked like, and used it to cover something." Goldie pondered that.

"Like a ruse, you mean," he said thoughtfully. "Someone wants to kill a woman, and uses the same pattern as a man known for killin' women indiscriminately."

"Exactly," Jayne nodded. He felt better just saying it.

"Well, if that is the case," Goldie sighed, "then he'll still kill again. He'll have to, in order to cover up what he's doin'."

"I know," Jayne agreed, dejected again. "And all we can do is wait."

"Yep."

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"River!" Zoe smiled as the younger woman trooped into the galley. "What brings you by?" The two women hugged. "Sit down." River took a seat.

"Jayne decided he had to see Goldie," River admitted. "I decided I needed to tag along. He has been. . .streaky, since he learned what had happened."

"I know that song," Zoe snorted. "Goldie's had his head up his _pi gu_ since he found that poor woman. I was trying to talk to him when you guys rang."

"Sorry," River apologized. "I had just tried talking to Jayne. He refused to discuss it. Said he didn't want to talk about it 'now'," she made air quotes with her fingers. "I didn't push him, because I can see that he's genuinely disturbed by it. But that's all the more reason for me to be trying to help."

"Exactly," Zoe nodded sharply. "I said that very sorta thing to Goldie. But he won't talk about it. I think. . .I think it's something he don't wanna remember, but now ain't got no choice."

"I agree," River nodded. "Their emotions were a swirl of conflict over the woman, and they both keep referring to someone from their past. Someone they call _Ghoul_. Jayne is firmly convinced the man is dead, at least that's what he says. But underneath, he is afraid."

"Sounds just like Goldie," Zoe nodded.

"When are you shipping out again?" River asked.

"Tomorrow night," Zoe replied. "Probably after dusk."

"That gives us some time to work on them, then," River said thoughtfully. "We'll just have to try harder."

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Kaylee and her father, Caleb, were closing up their shop for the day. Both were tired. Planting season was just around the corner on Argo, and everyone wanted their machinery in top working order.

"We'll get that harvester finished first thing in the mornin', Kay," Caleb said, locking the door from the outside. "After that, we'll have to start workin' on all that stuff from Hollander Farms."

"Most o' that's just maintenance, daddy," Kaylee shrugged. "We oughta be able to knock that out quick enough."

"That's good, Kay gal, 'cause I gotta call from Detwiler's today. They're bringin' in their heavier equipment day after tomorrow. Full overhaul on two of the quads, and upgrades and maintenance on the rest." Kaylee groaned at that, and Caleb chuckled.

"This was your idea, gal," he reminded her.

"I know," she sighed. "But I don't. . . ." she turned, and cut herself off short.

"Oh!" she started. "I didn't see you guys there!" The Greggs brothers were standing just outside, leaned up against their ground car.

"Sorry, Mrs Tam," Ryan Greggs apologized. "Sheriff sent us along to escort you home, ma'am."

"What?" Kaylee blinked at that. "Why?"

"Was a. . . ." Ryan started, but Leander kicked him in the leg. Ryan broke off with a muffled curse.

"Have to ask him, ma'am," Leander smiled. "We're just the hired help."

"Is there a problem, fellas?" Caleb asked, face etched in concern.

"Don't know, Mister Frye," Leander shrugged. "Just following orders. We'll just follow along, make sure you folks get home all right."

Caleb frowned at that, but it was clear that the boys weren't going to share. Shrugging, he walked to his mule, and Kaylee climbed in with him.

"Wonder what that's all about?" Kaylee said, and Caleb could only shrug again.

"'Spect Mal'll tell you, if'n he gets around to it."

With that, they started the short drive to the plant, where Caleb dropped Kaylee off. One of the deputies got out, and took up a position near the clinic. When Caleb set off for home, the other followed him all the way. As Caleb got out, the deputy waved to him, then started back for the plant, to pick up his brother.

"Now I wonder what that's all about?" Caleb murmured to himself. Shrugging once more, he walked into his house, where the smells of dinner soon drove the thought away.

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"Hello, _bao bei_," Simon kissed Kaylee gently when she walked in. Kaylee returned his kiss eagerly, glad to be home. "You look like you had a full day, Kaylee," Simon laughed at her grease covered body. She looked down at herself, and then shrugged.

"There's day's like that, Simon," she smiled, heading for their shower. "I had an interesting ride home, though, I will say that."

"Oh?" Simon asked. "What happened?"

"Didn't nothin' _happen_," Kaylee admitted, stripping out of her coveralls. Underneath she wore only the scantiest of underwear, and Simon's mouth went dry.

"Then, um, what was it that, uh, made it interesting," he managed to stammer, watching his wife's movements. She didn't mean to entice him, he figured. She just couldn't help it.

"I had a police escort," Kaylee turned to face him. "Simon Tam! Are you ogling me?" she asked innocently, bringing her hands into position to cover herself.

"No! Well, yes," Simon's face went red, and Kaylee's laughter made him grin. "I can't help it," he sighed, embracing her.

"I'd be mad if'n you could," Kaylee sighed, kissing him soundly.

"You mentioned a police escort?" Simon's mind cleared enough to ask.

"Yep," Kaylee nodded. "Them Greggs boys was waitin' at the shop. Followed us here, then one of'em waited for me to get inside while the other followed daddy home." Kaylee started the shower, holding her hand under the water while it warmed.

"Why?" Simon asked.

"Don't know," Kaylee shrugged. "If they knowed, they wasn't talkin'. You gonna just stand there, or join me?" she asked coyly, shedding her under things and stepping into the shower.

Simon just smiled, and started removing his clothes.

He loved being married.

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"So how did you manage to fix things with the Guild?" Mal asked tiredly. He was almost drunk with fatigue. He'd pushed himself hard the last two days, and it was telling. He wasn't back in shape yet.

_Might not ever be good as I was_, his mind even seemed to mumble.

"I contacted an attorney who deals with the Guild," Inara said evasively. She had decided not to tell Mal where the money had come from, unless it was absolutely necessary. Mal knew Jayne had inherited money from somewhere, she knew, but not how much. Inara felt it wasn't her place to say anything, even though Jayne had never once asked her to keep it a secret.

"And he can fix it?" Mal asked, as Inara helped him into bed.

"He can fix it," Inara nodded, smiling. "He can probably get the amount down to something more reasonable, and will negotiate a payment schedule, so that we don't have to have all the money in two weeks."

"I'm glad, Inara," he smiled tiredly. "I was worried 'bout you, after you was so upset. You know I'd sell everything for you, though, right?" Inara's eyes welled with tears at that. Yes, she'd known.

"I know, Mal," she kissed him softly. "But you don't have to. I don't want to be a burden to you."

"Never be a burden, Inara," Mal mumbled. "Love you. Always have. . . ." he trailed off as his fatigue finally claimed him. Inara kissed him again, gently, and pulled the cover up, making him comfortable. She sat in a chair by the bedside for a long time after that, watching Mal sleep.

Thinking about how lucky she was to have him.

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Mal was awakened by the beeping of an incoming cortex message. He frowned, sitting up in bed, wincing as his leg reminded him of how hard he'd been pushing himself.

"I don't even 'member gettin' into bed," he murmured. He looked over to see Inara sleeping peacefully beside him, her face almost angelic.

_Beep. Beep._

Muttering, Mal slipped out from under the covers and limped over to the screen. He hit the receive button, and the screen lit up at once with Toby Bontrager's face. His worried, haggard face.

"Sorry, boss," he apologized at once. "But we got a problem."

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Jayne come awake at once, sitting bolt upright in the bed. River was already sitting up, looking at him closely.

"Are you all right?" she asked, concern etched on her face. Jayne rubbed his face, and nodded.

"Fine. What's wrong?"

"You were having a nightmare," River replied softly. "One of the worst I've ever felt."

"Sorry," he mumbled, rising from the bed. "Just bad memories, that's all."

"Yes," River nodded. "And I want to know where they come from, Jayne. This is eating you up. It's not like you at all, and I'm concerned."

"Don't be," Jayne told her, his voice gentle. "I'm good. Just drug up somethin' I'd rather have left buried, that's all."

"Jayne, I. . . ." Her statement was cut off by the alarm for the bay door.

"I'll get it," Jayne said at once, grabbing his trousers and shirt as he walked to the ladder.

"This isn't over!" River told his back, watching him climb the ladder.

"I know," Jayne sighed, but never slowed. He hurried through the ship, dressing as he went. The alarm kept buzzing every few seconds.

"All right, all right," he muttered. "Keep your shirt on." He reached the lock, and looked out to see Mal standing there, frowning. That frown seemed to be a permanent feature these days. Jayne threw the door open.

"What's up, Mal?" he asked, squinting on the sunlight.

"Got a problem."

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"Are you ready to talk about what's eatin' you?" Zoe demanded, as she and Goldie sat at the table, coffee in hand. Goldie looked at her.

"I told ya, nothin's wrong," he replied. "Just thinkin' on things from back when, Zoe. It ain't nothin' to worry over."

"I'd say it is," Zoe shot back. Her voice wasn't unkind, just concerned. "You ain't slept more'n an hour at the time in two days. You're constantly lookin' around, like you expect an attack at any minute, and every sound you hear makes you perk up. That ain't normal for you, baby, and I want to know what's makin' you like that."

Goldie looked at her for a moment, then sighed. He sat his cup down, gathering his thoughts. Suddenly, the alarm on the bay door chimed.

"I'll get that," he mumbled, and rose from the table.

"Not without me, you won't," Zoe informed him, rising along with him. "You ain't runnin' out on me again."

"I ain't never run out on you!" Goldie looked indignant. "Won't never, neither," he added, almost hurt. Zoe reached out and touched his face.

"That wasn't what I meant, _ai ren_," she said softly, and kissed him. The buzzer kept sounding.

"Come on, then, and let's see who's up at this unearthly hour besides us," she ordered with a sigh, and the two headed for the bay. When they reached the door, Zoe stepped up to take a look, and saw Mal standing there. Surprised, she opened the lock.

"Sir? You're up awful early, ain't you?"

"Got a problem, Zoe," Mal nodded. "Need to borrow your engineer for a while. Got some'at we need to take a look at." Zoe could see Jayne standing behind Mal, looking pensive.

"Not without me," Zoe told him.

"Zoe, this ain't the time. . . ." Mal began.

"We'll be out in a minute," she cut him off. She looked at Jayne. "River know you're sneakin' off like this?" she demanded. Jayne looked at the ground and mumbled something she couldn't hear.

"You go get her," Zoe ordered, and shut the door, though she didn't lock it. Goldie looked at her in surprise.

"This has gone far enough," Zoe informed him. "We got a right to know what the hell is makin' you two crazy. And if you don't start talkin', _soon_, then life is gonna start being. . ._complicated_. For the both of you. _Dong ma?_"

All Goldie could do was nod. He was tired of trying to hide things from her anyway.

"I'll tell you as we go," he agreed, heading to get his gear. Zoe followed him, trying not to smirk.


	5. Chapter 5

Sins of the Past – Chapter Five

And here again is my improvised scene separator. I'm gonna start typing some extras in here, maybe, to see if you guys are reading this, lol.

When Zoe and Goldie emerged a few minutes later, River was waiting with Jayne and Mal. Mal was voicing his objection to the two of them coming along.

". . .know you think it's right, 'tross, but this here ain't got. . ." he trailed off as he saw Zoe.

"Zo', I been tellin' River, I don't think the two o' ya need to make this trip. It ain't like to be pretty, and there's no reason for you to have to see this. . . ."

"We're goin'," Zoe's tone was clipped. She looked at River.

"We are," the smaller woman nodded. "Enough is enough," she added, glowering at Jayne, who just looked at the ground.

"Fine," Mal grumped. "Follow me in a mule, then. We ain't actually got that far to go." He stomped over to his car, while the two couples climbed into Zoe's mule. Goldie sat behind the controls, Zoe beside him, while Jayne and River took the back.

"Start talkin'," Zoe ordered. Goldie looked at Jayne, and the bigger man nodded.

"'Bout, fifteen years ago, well, maybe not hardly that long ago, durin' the war, there was a man we called The Ghoul. He was what they call a serial killer."

"Repetitive killings, usually driven by innate need of some kind, often involves the taking of trophies from victims," River said at once. Jayne nodded.

"Anyhow, he was killin' women on a planet we were on at the time. Like as not we'd not have known what was happenin', 'cept that he acquired a. . .taste, you might say, for female soldiers. Three women went missin' from the camp we was in, in just two weeks time," he added.

"When we started findin'em, it was. . .bad. They'd been cut on and mutilated somethin' terrible. Worse than I've done to any Alliance durin' the war," Jayne added, which made the two women wince. They'd heard more than once how Jayne had often treated Alliance personnel.

"Coroner said it was 'apparent' from. . .whatever he was lookin' at. . .that the women folk had all been alive whilst he was doin'. . .what he was doin'. He was torturin'em. Thing was, they was just grunts. Didn't know nothin' anyone from the Alliance would have wanted to know. So wasn't no need for that."

"He did it because he liked it," Goldie said darkly. "He was enjoying torturing those women, and watchin' 'em die." Jayne nodded.

"We tried lookin' for him, but how do you find someone when you don't know what you're lookin' for?" he shrugged. "After two more women went missin' in the next week, we decided to set a trap for him."

"We used Blade as bait," Goldie told them. "Me, kid, and Wart, we shadowed her, followed her everywhere. She went to all the places the women who'd disappeared had gone, made a show of it."

"And he bit. Tried to take her after just three nights. We were ready for him, and still almost missed him. One minute she's there, the next she ain't. We got lucky."

"Blade managed to get away," Jayne told them. "He wasn't expectin' her to put up more of a fight than the others had. Blade's got a way o' surprisin' ya," he chuckled, but there was no humor in it.

"We heard her yellin'," Goldie told them as he guided the mule off of the main road, following Mal. "When we got there, he thumped her on the head, knocked her out. We managed to surround him, keep him from gettin' away."

"Now, you'd think that the three of us, big strong boys that we are, could take one man, without a lotta fuss. Wasn't the case," Goldie frowned as he remembered that night.

"We was over confident," Jayne said flatly. "Three of us, one o' him, no contest, right? Only he fought like a demon from hell. It was dark, just comin' up to storm. Most of the light we had was from flashes o' lightnin'. Gave him an advantage o' sorts, since he could cut anything he saw, whilst we had to make sure we wasn't cuttin' on each other."

"It took most of an hour to get him," Goldie nodded. "And he got all three of us in the meantime. But good, too," he added. "Think Wart still feels it when it comes on to rain. Anyway, we finally managed to get him on the ground, and we. . .well, we finished it," he shrugged.

"So he's dead?" Zoe frowned. She and River had been silent through all of this, but now they were confused. What did a dead man have to do with their recent funk?

"Well, he seemed like it," Goldie started.

"He's dead," Jayne said flatly. "I cut his throat clear to his backbone, once I got him on the ground. And Goldie had already nicked his femoral. He's dead."

"Anyway, we throwed him into a deep hole, and covered him over. Maybe eight, nine feet deep. No one would ever have reason to dig there. He was gone."

"I'm don't see what this has to do with your recent behavior," River frowned. "Are you two having flashbacks? If so, why now?"

"The woman we found," Goldie's voice was strained now. "She'd been cut on, just like ole Ghoul used to do. I mean _exactly_ like he used to do," he added darkly. "And the kid found a coin underneath her, which was somethin' the Ghoul used to do, too. And then, the coroner found another one, pushed way down her throat, like, so's we didn't see it. Another callin' card."

"You think this man's still alive?" River and Zoe were dumfounded.

"No," Jayne growled, but Goldie just shrugged.

"Now, this mornin'," Goldie told them, "Mal shows up, says they done found another body. Just like the first one." Both women flinched at that.

"Told you you hadn't oughta come," Jayne didn't growl, but his voice was firm.

"I'll be fine," River replied with far more confidence than she felt.

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Mal looked at the body, and knew despair. Unlike the previous body, this one wasn't yet in advanced decomposition. Her face was still contorted in pain, and fear. A glint of metal was just visible in the corner of her mouth, open with what Mal was sure was a scream.

And Toby held an evidence bag containing a coin identical to the one found on the first body. He had recovered it lying right beside her.

"Doc says she ain't been dead long," Toby said softly. "Less'n a day, most likely."

"Do we know who she is?" Mal asked. Toby shook his head.

"Not yet, but we're checking on missin' persons planet wide." Mal nodded dumbly. He was about to ask something else when the sound of a shuttle craft caught his attention. Everyone turned, seeing a shuttle bearing the markings of the Planetary Marshal's Office, descending on the clearing across the road. Once the shuttle was down, the hatch opened, and two people, a man and a woman, stepped down from the shuttle and started toward them.

"Well, we're saved," Toby murmured sarcastically. "The Marshal's are here."

"We need all the help we can get," Mal reminded him, eyeing the two people. The man was tall, almost as tall as Jayne, and almost gaunt. Dark hair and darker eyes made him look like one of those characters off the cortex movies.

The woman was shorter by at least a foot and a half, with long brown hair trailing behind her in a pony tail. Her eyes were obscured by dark glasses, but she walked with an air that projected confidence that bordered on arrogance. That didn't bode well, Mal thought.

"Sheriff Reynolds?" the man asked, looking at the group.

"That'd be me," Mal raised his hand. "My Chief Investigator, Toby Bontrager." Mal indicated Toby with a wave. "And you are?"

"I'm Hiram Bonds," the man replied, showing his identification. "This is Isabel Reeves. We're investigators with the Planetary Marshal's service."

"Pleased to meet you," Mal said amiably, offering his hand. Neither agent offered to take it, and Mal frowned.

"You folks are a might short on manners, over at the Marshal's Service, I take it," he said pointedly, lowering his hand. "How can we help you two?"

"We're here to take over this investigation," Reeves told him bluntly, sniffing in disdain. "We'll require you to turn over all your evidence, case files, and interview notes at once."

"Is that a fact?" Mal's eyebrows rose. "And how is it you just waltz in here and take over?"

"You sent for the Marshal's, Sheriff," Bonds replied. "We're here."

"I sent for assistance," Mal corrected. "I wanted someone who could help our coroner determine time and place of death, if possible, and see could you help us identify the victim, as we didn't have anyone here missin'."

"That isn't how we work, Sheriff," Reeves told him. "As I said, we're taking over. We'll require you complete cooperation, of course."

"'Require', is it?" Mal almost challenged. "Well, I'm glad you sorted that out for me, little lady. And here I was, thinking I was in charge around here."

"It's Marshal Reeves, Sheriff, not 'little lady'," Reeves didn't quite sneer.

"Whatever you say, little lady," Mal smiled, deliberately baiting her.

"Think we'll head on out, sir," Zoe murmured. "Pleasure meeting you folks," this was directed at the Marshals. The four of them started for their mule, only to be stopped by Bonds outstretched hand.

"You are?" he demanded.

"Not interested in gettin' to know you any better," Goldie replied. "Thanks for the offer, though."

"I asked who you were," Bonds repeated, in what he fondly imagined was a threatening voice.

"They're friends o' mine," Mal stepped in before Jayne or Goldie could say anything else. "Help me from time to time, when I need a hand trackin' and what not. And Goldie and Zoe," he pointed to the right couple, "found the first victim, three days ago, now."

"We'll need you to come with us, then," Reeves told the couple, reaching into her pocket. "We'll have to hold you until you can be cleared in this."

"Hold us?" Goldie and Zoe said in unison. "For reporting a dead body?"

"It's procedure," Bonds nodded. "If you're innocent, then there's no reason for you not to cooperate."

"Other than I ain't the _cooperatin'_ type," Goldie smiled nastily. "And I'm not bein' 'held' no where. By you or no one else."

"It's not optional sir," Reeves again spoke as if she had found something on her shoe. "You're required to cooperate."

"I did," Goldie told her. "I found a dead body, and I reported it."

"And if you reported it to cover the fact that you placed it there?" Reeves had no diplomatic skills at all.

Neither did Zoe. She stepped forward before Mal could stop her, and her right hand _cracked_ against the other woman's jaw. Reeves hit the ground in a heap. Bonds eyes went wide, as he grabbed for his gun. Before he had touched it, he found himself looking down the barrel of Goldie's pistol.

"I wouldn't," Bonds heard, as he looked at eyes flat as death over the barrel of a gun just three feet from his nose. He slowly raised his hands, and looked at Mal.

"Are you going to just stand there and watch them break the law?" he demanded.

"I ain't seen'em break no law," Mal shrugged. "You ain't got no cause to hold'em, and every citizen has a right to resist an unlawful arrest. Goldie," Mal turned to his friend, "how 'bout you puttin' that iron down, and takin' Zo' and the rest on outta here. I'll deal with this. I appreciate you two comin' out here to help."

Goldie slowly lowered his pistol, and then holstered it. He took Zoe by the arm, and guided her toward their mule, Jayne and River following. Jayne watched Bonds carefully until they were at the mule. As the vehicle sped away, Mal turned to Bonds.

"You try somethin' like that again, and I'll have the two o' you in jail, and up on charges. _Dong ma?_ Meantime, I want you outta my parish. I'll be wavin' your boss right soon to file a formal complaint against you both."

"You're makin' a mistake, Sheriff," Bonds growled, assisting Reeves to her feet.

"I'm famous for it," Mal nodded. "I want you two gone. Now." The marshals looked at him for a moment, then started for their shuttle. Mal turned to Toby.

"Get the Marshal's office on the cortex for me, right now," he ordered. "I wanna talk to whoever those two idiots answer to. And get the coroner over here to see to this poor girl, and see can we find out who she is. . .was."

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"I'm sorry for the trouble, Sheriff," Chief Deputy Marshal Richard Haimes apologized, once Mal had let him get in a word. "I don't know what the two of them were thinking."

"I called you people for help with a gruesome murder, two murders now," Mal was still angry. "They show up, and start makin' demands, givin' orders, and tryin' to arrest two o' my people who was here as a kindness to me, helpin' out. I realize that I'm just a backwater Sheriff to you people," he grated. "And I don't claim to be more'n that. But their behavior wasn't what I'd call professional, in no sense o' the word."

"They're actually two of my best investigators," Haimes shook his head slowly. "I can't even begin to explain why they acted the way they did. I'll be having words with them as soon as they return, I assure you. And I will get to the bottom of this, Sheriff Reynolds. In the meantime, what assistance can we offer you?"

"I don't rightly reckon I want any more o' your 'assistance', Chief Deputy," Mal said bluntly. "I can't be keepin' an eye on your people, and workin' on this too. I was hoping for technical support, and maybe some help in identifying the first victim. I don't mind workin' in cooperation with your office. Have in the past, as you'll recall," he added, and Haimes nodded.

"As I said, Sheriff, I can't offer you any explanation. Bonds and Reeves normally assist larger departments. Turf wars aren't uncommon, as you well know. We try to work with local authorities for a number of reasons other than pure courtesy. Chief among them is the simple fact that you and your men are more familiar with the area, and with the people. This was the first time the two of them had been assigned to an independent investigation, however," he admitted. "I suppose they thought they could simply take over, and do as they pleased, and you wouldn't object."

"Well, I am objectin'," Mal shot back. "I don't want the two o' them back in this parish again."

"They won't be," Haimes assured him. "And I know you have a lot on your plate right now. What if I send you one of our forensic specialists, to help with cataloguing evidence, and using DNA to try and identify the victims? They won't interfere with your investigation, but might be able to provide a level of skill you don't have locally."

"That would be a help," Mal agreed grudgingly. "And we can use it, so long as they ain't no repeat o' this morning."

"I promise there won't be," Haimes nodded. "This is a major crime, and we need to catch the person, or persons, responsible as soon as we can. I'll work with you in any way I can to facilitate that."

"All right," Mal nodded. "I'd be glad for the help."

"I'll have her on the way today," Haimes promised. "Again, I'm sorry for the difficulty."

"It ain't your fault," Mal sighed, rubbing his eyes. "You're a long way from where all this happened, Chief Deputy. No way you can be everywhere at once."

"I appreciate your understanding, Sheriff," Haimes' voice rang with sincerity. "If I can provide further assistance, please, call me directly." The wave broke, and Mal got out of the car, shaking his head.

"Them two are likely in for it," Toby grinned. "You'll have to watch out for them, boss," his grin faded. "One day, they'll try to get even with you. Or at least with Goldie and Zoe."

"Their funeral," Mal growled. "Meantime, let's start gettin' things under control around here. Make sure we take care with all the evidence. Don't want that forensic woman thinkin' we're all a buncha backwards hicks."

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Zoe was still furious when they arrived back at the ships. Goldie was trying to calm her down.

"Zoe, take it easy," he said calmly. "They're just arrogant, that's all. And you sure put that Reeves in her place," he added, grinning. Zoe snorted.

"I shoulda shot her," she growled.

"No, Zoe," River shook her head. "That would just have made things worse. As it is, I'm sure _Baba_ has run them off. Best thing we can do, now, is forget it, and get on with our own business."

"I know, River," Zoe sighed, allowing some of her anger to subside. "It still rankles that she would accuse us of something like that."

"She doesn't know any better," River replied. "Or didn't," she added with a giggle.

"I'd say she does now," Jayne nodded. "That was a wicked right hook, Zoe," he added.

"I wish I could'a hit her harder," Zoe grumbled, shaking her hand. It was swelling slightly. "Or maybe kicked her after she was down," she added darkly.

"Might want to let Simon see that, Zoe," River suggested. "Make sure you haven't broken anything."

"Good idea," Goldie nodded, taking Zoe's arm. "Come on, slugger, let's go see the doc. Don't argue with me, woman!" he added with mock severity when Zoe started to object. That earned him a glare, which just bounced right off of him. He led the still complaining Zoe toward the clinic, leaving Jayne and River alone.

"I'm glad you told us the story behind all this," River said softly.

"You hadn't oughta heard it," Jayne replied. "Neither o' you. It ain't somethin' fit for good people to hear."

"It's important that we know what's been bothering you two," River pointed out. "And it's also important that we know what's happening around here. Even if this isn't the same man, whoever is doing this is evil through and through. We need to be aware, so that we can protect ourselves."

"I guess that's so," Jayne admitted grudgingly. "I can't always be there, and Goldie can't neither. I just. . .I didn't, _we _didn't want you to have to worry on this. Things was finally goin' pretty well for us all, and Goldie and me, we didn't wanna rain on that."

"You haven't," River smiled. "It's the person who is committing these vile acts that's responsible, Jayne. And _Baba_ will catch him," she added confidently.

"I hope so," Jayne sighed. "I really do hope so."

His voice, and his thoughts, didn't hold much hope.

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"I'd like to know what the two of you thought you were doing?"

Chief Deputy Haimes was staring at Bonds and Reeves across his desk. He hadn't asked them to sit, so they remained standing. Both looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Sir, we arrived on the scene of another murder," Bonds spoke quietly. "We informed the Sheriff that we would take over the investigation from that point, and asked for all evidence collected by his department, and interviews conducted since the discovery of the first body. He. . .wasn't very cooperative."

"You tried to arrest two of his people!" Haimes almost exploded. "People there by his invitation to assist him in trying to find whoever did this!" He flung captures of the gruesome body on his desk, sent to him by Reynolds. Reeves flinched slightly at the sight, while Bonds ignored them.

"Sir, those two discovered the first body," Bonds tried to explain. "Scientifically, they are the likely suspects."

"Did you note," Haimes' voice was deadly calm, "that the body had been there for, and I quote, 'quite some time', end quote? And did you notice, Deputy, that the body was in an advanced state of decomposition? And that the two of them are law abiding citizens, working in the employee of the Sheriff's own shipping firm? That the woman, Washburne, has been with him since the war?"

"All the more reason to make sure the two of them had nothing to do with the crime, sir," Reeves offered. "They are the most likely people to avoid the Sheriff's suspicion."

"And there's a reason for that," Haimes nodded. "He _knows them_! Don't you think," his voice dripped sarcasm, "that if these two, the woman in particular, were capable of something like this, _he would know that better than anyone_!" He made a visible effort to calm down.

"This is the same man whose department dismantled an organized crime syndicate in his parish less than a year ago. In the process uncovering evidence that is _still_ leading us to arrests and investigations _all across this moon!_ Did any of that, I wonder, enter your teeny little minds when you tried to waltz into his territory and take over his investigation, while riding roughshod over him, his department, and his people?"

Neither of them spoke, though they did exchange uncomfortable looks.

"I thought not," Haimes nodded. "You can both consider yourselves on suspension until I decide whether or not to seek your termination. I want your credentials, and your weapons, on my desk, now."

"Sir, we followed the. . . ." Bonds started to protest.

"_NOW_!" Haimes almost shrieked. Both investigators reluctantly surrendered their weapons and identification. Haimes scooped them up at once.

"Get out," he ordered. "I don't want to see you, or hear about you being in this or any other office until I call you. Understand?" The two nodded in silence, and trooped out of his office. Haimes watched them go, swearing under his breath.

The two of them were gifted investigators. He had sent them to Reynolds thinking that they would be able to assist the Sheriff in trying to stop these murders. Instead, the two of them had embarrassed him, and the Service. He sighed, rubbing his head.

He didn't want to terminate them. The service needed bright young officers like them. With criminal activity on the rise, the service needed every able man and woman, and Bonds and Reeves were extremely able.

But they had to learn how to act. How to _interact_ with local authorities. Maybe this would be a start in the right direction. In fact. . . .

A nasty smile played across his face as an idea formed in his mind. He thought about it for several minutes, then settled in behind his cortex screen.

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"You want what?" Malcolm Reynolds looked at Haimes as if he'd grown a new head.

"I want to send these two back to you, Reynolds," Haimes smiled. "I've just suspended both of them, with the threat of termination hanging over them both. But my problem here is complex."

"The truth is, they _are_ good investigators," he shrugged. "And we need people like them if we're going to keep putting pressure on the syndicate you yourself uncovered. Things will get worse, I think, long before they get better. I can't afford to lose gifted people because of a lack of experience." "I don't see how that concerns me," Mal replied.

"It concerns you, and every other sheriff on this moon," Haimes corrected him. "All of you depend upon on us for support. I need the best people I can get to provide that support, and to tend to moon wide investigations, such as the syndicate problem."

"I want, with your permission, to order the two of them back to Bickford, under your direct supervision. I considered sending a senior deputy with them, but that won't solve the problem. I need investigators who can work independently of the service, assisting local authorities with problems just like this. That means they have to learn to get along with Sheriffs just like you."

"They can't learn that, working under a supervisor from here. That kind of experience can only be gotten. . .well, with experience," Haimes shrugged, unable to find a better term. "I know it's asking a lot, Sheriff Reynolds, but it would do two things. It would help me help these two get their heads out, if you know what I mean, and it would give you two experienced investigators, both of whom have a real gift for this kind of work."

"After what happened this mornin', I can't seem then two takin' orders from me," Mal shrugged. "I don't see how it can work."

"You leave that to me," Haimes replied confidently. "I'll make it plain to them that if they want to save their careers, cooperating with you and your people is the only way to do so. In essence, you will hold their future in your hands. And they'll know it. First sign of trouble, you wave me, and I yank them. Probably fire them."

Mal thought about that. It was true that he needed the help. Those two had rubbed him the wrong way, and got on the bad side of Zoe, not to mention the others. Taking them back would likely cause no small amount of ill mannered language.

On the other hand, he wanted to help Haimes. He knew that the Marshal's Service had been working almost non-stop since his own encounter with the Nine, shutting down more and more of the criminal organization's operations all over Argo. And so long as they kept the pressure on, it was unlikely that he'd see a resurgence in their interest here in Bickford.

"All right," Mal relented. "I'll take'em, provided they bring some manners with'em this time."

"I'll make sure of it," Haimes promised. "And I really appreciate this Reynolds."

"Always glad to be of service." Mal shut off the wave and stood. Time to break the news to Toby.

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"You guys settin' off?" Jayne asked, seeing Goldie and Zoe watching a crew load _Serenity_.

"Soon as we get loaded," Goldie nodded. "Even got some passengers this go 'round." He nodded toward the small office where Inara was speaking to what looked like two families.

"Well, good for business," Jayne shrugged.

"Yep," Goldie nodded. Neither of them wanted to talk about the day's events, so they were making small talk to avoid the discussion.

"Reckon we'll get some rain tonight," Jayne offered, looking at the sky.

"Prob'ly," Goldie nodded. "Won't hurt the farmer's feelin's, I imagine."

"Nope," Jayne agreed. "Need a good rain. Wash all the dust away."

"Yep." The two of them looked at each other, then finally both grinned.

"Not talkin' 'bout it won't make it go away," Jayne shrugged.

"It won't," Goldie agreed. "Watch yourself, kid. And keep an eye on the women folk. I know River can take care of herself, but even she ain't always on guard."

"I know," Jayne nodded. "Me and the boy'll be takin' turns standin' watch, I imagine, long as we're on the ground."

"I'll talk to Zoe," Goldie told him. "We need to make sure one ship is always here, long as this is goin' on. Me and Gerry can stand watch when we're in."

"Sounds good," Jayne agreed. "I hope Mal and them can wrap this up quick like."

"Me too," Goldie nodded. "I'd sure like to know who it is, and how he knows so damn much," he added.

"Anyone who was on planet at the time could know all this, Goldie," Jayne pointed out.

"True," the older man nodded. "But not just anybody can do somethin' like this, kid. Takes a dark soul to hurt someone like that." Jayne looked uncomfortable at that, and Goldie cursed himself mentally.

"I didn't mean like that, kid," Goldie said softly. "Things you did, _we_ did, we did to people as had it comin'. You know that as well as I do. This ain't the same."

"I keep tellin' myself that," Jayne smiled weakly.

"And you keep on tellin' yourself till you believe it," Goldie ordered. "You know it's true, kid. Don't wanna have to remind you o' that again, neither. You hear me?"

"I hear ya," Jayne clapped the older man on the shoulder. "You fly safe."

"You stay on your toes," Goldie shot back. "We'll be in the black. Safe and sound. You're on the ground."

"I'll mind it." Jayne promised. Goldie nodded, and walked back toward _Serenity_. Jayne watched him go, then turned to see Inara moving the passengers out. He waited until the passengers were gone, then eased over to her.

"Hello, Jayne," Inara smiled. "How. . .well, I shouldn't ask that, I guess," she stopped herself. "How are you faring?"

"I'm fine," Jayne nodded. "Inara, on nights when Mal ain't around, I want you sleepin' on ship, either with us, or with Zoe. You don't need to be here alone, even though we're nearby." Inara looked at him for a moment.

"You don't think. . . ."

"What I think don't matter none," Jayne cut her off. "I want you somewhere safe, that's all. If Mal's here with you, fine and good. When he ain't, though, you need to be on ship."

"All right, Jayne," Inara nodded. "I will."

"Good," Jayne nodded. "And you don't walk across here after dark, alone, neither. You call us, me or the boy one'll come get you. I mean it Inara," he added, when she appeared about to object. "This is serious."

"Very well," she sighed. "Every time it seems like things are going to straighten out, something like this happens."

"I know," Jayne nodded, his eyes haunted.

"Thank you, Jayne," Inara smiled suddenly. "For everything."

"Glad I could do it," he replied truthfully. "Me or the boy one'll be on watch long as we're here. You have a need, you call." With that he edged away, heading for his own ship.

Inara watched him go, wanting to help him. But there was no way to release Jayne from the burden he carried right now. He had to do that himself.

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Blade looked across the couch where Wart sat, cleaning his gun. She watched him, noting how intent he was on the chore.

"Wart, I think it's clean, now," she said finally, and he looked up at her. The intensity in his eyes shocked her.

"I know," he replied. "I need somethin' to do, and this is as good as any."

"You think it's him, don't you?" Blade demanded.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "If it ain't, it's a damn good imitator. Either way, I don't aim to let up till he's dead."

"Wart, Ghoul _is_ dead," Blade insisted. "You helped bury him!"

"I did," Wart nodded. "And watched you layin' on the ground while I did it, Susan. I can't go through that again."

"Through what?" she asked.

"Watchin' you hurt," he said simply. "I can't. I _won't. _If. . .I don't think it can be the same guy," he admitted. "I don't believe in witchcraft nor any o' that other nonsense, and that means this ain't the man we put down before. But this whole thing is spooky. It's unreal how similar it is. Hell," he growled. "It ain't _similar_, it's ruttin' _identical_!"

"Wart,. . . ."

"Don't," he told her. "I don't wanna talk about this no more. I. . .we shouldn'a used you as bait, the time before."

"Why not? You needed someone, and I was the best candidate. I can take care of myself, Peter," she added.

"Like you did then?" he asked. "I don't doubt you, woman. I never have. But I can't stand the thought o' how close he came to endin' you. I can't take that, Susan. Not again. Not now."

"Okay," she smiled. "I'll be careful, anyway, and besides," she stood and walked over to him. "I've got you to protect me."

He looked at her then, and she was stunned to see the doubt in his eyes. She'd never seen that before.

"Like I did last time?" his voice was soft, full of recrimination.

"It wasn't just you, as I recall," she reminded him, snuggling into his bulk. "Goldie and Shade were there, too, you know."

"You don't mean nothin' like as much to them as you do to me," the pain in his voice was palpable. "They love you, yes. But. . . ."

"But not like you do?" she asked. "I don't want them to love me like you do, Peter. I want _you_ to love me like that, and no one else. Ever." She stood suddenly, pulling him with her.

"Come on," she told him. "It's bed time. No more talk about any of this. Not tonight. And not anymore, if we can help it." He followed her then, up the stairs to their bedroom. Peter Micelli was just as haunted as Jayne or Goldie. He had helped kill the man called Ghoul, and bury him in an unmarked grave. Yet now, fifteen plus years later, someone was killing women the same way that dead man had.

And it scared him. Like nothing ever had before. The idea that, some way, some how, Ghoul was still out there. Still alive.

And had decided that maybe this was a good time to even the score.

_HEY ALL! I now have a blog up on wordpress. I have posted a few chapters of one of my original works there, one I will soon send off into the great void of publishing hades, across the River Styx, lol. I will be adding other original works there of mine for review, and to give you an idea of what my original fics look like. Please take a moment to drop by and give it a look. Let me know what you think. Thanks!_

badkarma00 . wordpress . com ( Had to place a space between the address. You'll need to take'em out. :) )


	6. Chapter 6

Sins of the Past – Chapter Six

Writer owns no rights to Firefly, or it's verse. Only original content is, well, the original content. There is no money being made here. Okay not to sue me.

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Mal looked across his desk at Deputy Marshals Reeves and Bonds. His look wasn't friendly at all.

"Sheriff, I'd like to apologize for our behavior earlier," Bonds spoke first, as senior agent. "We acted using poor judgement, to say the least, and I'm sorry." Reeves said nothing, but her glare told Mal she wasn't happy with the set-up. She had a beautiful shiner, courtesy of Zoe, and her eye was still swelled a bit.

"I know you folks have a hard job, sometimes," Mal said evenly. "But what you did, how you did it, was about as unprofessional as anything I've ever seen. I would have been happy to hand this investigation over to you, and place myself and my department ready to help you in any way we could."

"You didn't need all that high handed _go se_ o' yours, walkin' up to us like we was somethin' on the bottom o' your shoe, to be scraped off." Reeves looked a bit uncomfortable at that, but remained silent.

"The way you approached Goldie and Zoe was even worse," he added, still angry about that. "Those two ain't done nothin' wrong, save to report what they found, and then be ready to help me, anytime there was a need. Havin' you two accuse them, threaten to 'hold' them, was an insult. You're lucky that black eye was all you got from that, little lady," he told Reeves, deliberately using the term he knew she hated.

"And you," he looked again to Bonds, "likely don't know how close you came to gettin' killed, goin' for that gun when Zoe took exception to bein' called a murderer." Bonds nodded, remembering the look in the other man's eyes.

"Anyway," Mal sighed, "that's water under the bridge. Bad a start as we got off to, I admit I don't think it's a good idea to send you two back here. But, your Chief Deputy thinks very highly of your abilities, if not your personalities," he couldn't resist adding. "And he's right. We do need help. We've lost too many men in the last year fightin' against the syndicate. We've replaced our losses, but you can't replace experience. And we're short on that, after so many of our long time deputies were either killed or disabled in the fight against the Nine."

Both deputies had the grace to look embarrassed again. Reynolds and his men weren't backwater hicks, as they'd tried to treat them. This department was a professional organization, with a major coup under it's belt. They had earned the respect that Reynolds demanded.

"Our orders are to report directly to you, Sheriff," Bonds stated. "For all intents and purposes, we're your deputies. Although our jurisdictional authority is still in place. Something you'll find useful, if the investigation were to carry us beyond your own parish." Mal nodded thoughtfully, not having considered that.

"I don't want any trouble with you people," Mal told them frankly. "We've had a good relationship with the Planetary Marshals ever since I took office. I want to keep that. I want us to be able to call on your when we need help, and I want _you_ to be able to call on us for help when you have a case in this area. You know, more than I do, I imagine, how bad things are since we stirred up things with the Nine. We have to be able to work together, all of us, if we're gonna keep this a safe place to live, and raise a family."

Both deputies nodded, and Mal thought that Reeves' might have thawed the slightest bit. Good.

"All right, then," he straightened up. "I set up an office for you down the hall, right across from my own Chief Investigator. He's smart, and able, so don't be talkin' down to him like you did me," he ordered, and both flushed again.

"Everything we've collected, so far, has been copied to you, and is waitin' in your office. That forensic specialist from your office is working over the bodies, and the evidence collected at the scene, right now. Soon as she's done, you'll get that as well. Haimes tells me you two have a real gift for investigative work. I'm hopin' that's true, because I don't want to keep findin' bodies of young women in my parish like this."

"One other thing, though I'm sure this has occurred to you. Those women may not be from here, or have even been killed here. We may be just a dumpin' ground for this man. I don't want us makin' assumptions either way. We work the evidence, and keep our theories separate. It's okay to have'em, mind, and follow up on'em. Just don't let them take the place of actual information. Okay?"

"Good idea, sir," Reeves actually nodded. "And no, sir, to be honest, I hadn't thought about that. That the victims may not be from here, and the crimes weren't actually committed here."

"I'm sure it would have," Mal smiled. "According to Haimes, you two are right bright. I look forward to seein' what you can uncover. Anything you need, see me or Toby." The two nodded. Knowing they'd been dismissed, they left the office, and walked down the hallway to their new workstation.

"You know, he's a pretty good guy," Bonds observed as they entered their office. "He didn't have to even pretend to be nice to us, under the circumstances."

"No, he didn't," Reeves agreed. "And I'm trying to like him. But it's not easy."

"You're just sore about the eye," Bonds teased, and Reeves shot him a death glare.

"I'll get even with her," Reeves growled. "I don't care who she is, or who she knows, no one hits me and gets off scot free."

"I'd think that over real hard, was I you," Bonds warned, removing his jacket and taking a seat. "That woman was a soldier, and now she's a starship Captain. And she dropped you like a bad habit. Maybe you should think about chalkin' this up to a learning experience, and moving on from here. You might not get off so lucky, the next time."

Reeves shot him another glare, but inside, she was thinking. Bonds was right. Washburne was formidable. And, if she was honest, Reeves had pushed the woman. True, she'd only been doing her job, as she thought it was proper. But that didn't mean that everyone else saw it that way.

_Okay, maybe I did have it coming_, she admitted, if only to herself. _I guess if she's willing to let it go, I should be too. We'll see, I guess._

With that, she, too, took a seat, and opened a file.

Time to get to work.

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Goldie walked up onto the bridge where Rebecca Phillips sat, checking on the settings for the auto-pilot. She looked up when she heard him, and smiled.

"How's it going?" she asked.

"Fair," Goldie shrugged. "We're shiny, far as I can tell," he added.

"We are," she nodded. "You gonna be up here for a bit?"

"I can be," Goldie nodded. "Got somethin' you need to tend to?"

"Just need a break," Becca shrugged. "Be back in a few." Goldie nodded again as she set off. She hadn't much more than cleared the passageway when Zoe hit the bridge.

"Well, look who's here," Goldie smiled. Zoe looked at him for a moment, then crossed over the where he sat in the co-pilot's seat. Her hand was still wrapped. Simon had clucked over her as he'd wrapped the sprained wrist. _'Never hit the head with the hand, Zoe,' he'd admonished. 'Always go for soft tissue'_.

"What are you doing up here?" she demanded, though she settled comfortably into his lap as she did so. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

"Just relieving Becca for a bit," he shrugged. "Ain't got nothin' else goin' at the moment." Zoe sat quietly with him for a moment.

"Are you okay?" she asked finally, startling him.

"Huh? Why wouldn't I be?"

"You know what I mean," she said softly. "I know it took a lot for you and Jayne to tell us that story, Goldie. Made you remember things you might not wanna."

"We'd already been reminded of it, Zoe," Goldie replied quietly. "Ain't no one, ever seen that once, is like to forget it. And I don't think either of us'll ever forget the fight with him that night."

"Bad, huh?" Zoe asked, her eyes boring into his.

"Worst I ever was in," he nodded, being completely open and honest for once, when it came to that kind of thing. "I. . .was times durin', I honestly didn't think we'd survive, let alone take him down. It. . .it was like he was possessed or somethin'. And he was so _fast_. He seemed to know what we was gonna try even 'fore we did. And then he'd be there, waitin' on us." His eyes lost their focus as he once more re-visited a long ago, far away night, illuminated only by flashes of lightning, highlighted by a sense of urgency, and fear.

"Sounds like quite a fighter," Zoe murmured, laying her head on his shoulder.

"A demon," Goldie whispered. "He was like a demon you read about in old stories. Just. . .evil, Zoe. Pure, undiluted evil. Was a while I didn't think he was human."

"But he was," she said, more than asked.

"Yeah, he was," Goldie nodded. "We put him down like a dog, finally. I grabbed his legs, Wart hit him from the side, 'bout waist high, and the kid took his head. Laid his throat open clear to his backbone, like he said." "But his eyes never closed. Even when we threw him in the ground, his eyes was open. Life like. Not dead lookin', just starin'." He shuddered as he remembered those eyes, staring up at him.

"It's over with, Goldie," Zoe whispered, her uninjured hand stroking his cheek. "He's gone, dead."

"I hope so," Goldie shuddered again.

"You saw him die," Zoe pointed out. Goldie nodded, looking out at the stars, lost in his memory of that night.

_I hope so_, he thought, though he didn't repeat it again. _Lord, I do hope so._

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Liam Greggs shifted ever so slightly in his seat, though no one would have noticed the motion, he moved so carefully. He was hidden amongst an stack of empty shipping crates near the landing pad, taking his turn at the watch. Jayne had given him a pair of night vision goggles, and he used them to scan the area around him.

He didn't like the way Jayne was so spooky these days, he decided. Liam wasn't used to Jayne not being sure of himself. Or being worried. The big man had been something of a hero to Liam for a while now, and the younger man didn't like anything that made Jayne nervous. Liam figured if Jayne was on edge, he should be scared to death.

But, he wasn't. As he continued to look all around him, Liam realized that he wasn't scared witless, like he ought to be, considering the kind of man it would take to do something like what had been done to those women.

_Or,_ he thought to himself_, the kind of man it would take Jayne, Goldie _and_ Wart to kill_. Jayne had confided in the younger man everything that he and Goldie had shared with their women. He had done so, according to Jayne, so that Liam would understand the gravity of the situation. So he would know what he might be up against.

One the one hand, Liam was glad that Jayne had trusted him enough to tell him all of that. On the other, though, he was uneasy at the thought that someone so dangerous could be lurking around here, just waiting. That thought prompted him to raise his glasses again, and start his scan all over again. Something he would repeat every few minutes all night long. Whoever might be out there might get him, but they'd have to work at it.

And work hard, at that.

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Jayne was up early, unable to sleep well. He was surprised he could sleep at all, considering. He slipped outside just at dawn. He looked around carefully, but was unable to find Liam. That both worried him, and pleased him at the same time. He was worried that Liam had fallen asleep, or had been injured. If he hadn't, then Jayne was pleased that the young man was so well hidden that even _he_ couldn't detect him.

"Mornin' boss," Liam's voice floated to him. Jayne didn't start, just turned to see Liam standing where there had only been empty ground a few minutes before.

"Mornin'," Jayne smiled. "You're movin' quiet. I didn't see nor hear ya at all." Liam smiled at that, pleased with himself.

"Figure if you can't, he mebbe can't neither," the boy admitted. "Ain't wantin' ta take no chances."

"Good," Jayne nodded. "Well, you're relieved. Go ahead and get some breakfast, and then hit the sack. We may not stand a guard like this every night. Once the factory security know what's what, we'll likely stop all this, and just lock down solid at night."

"Works for me," Liam nodded. "Hard to stay awake them last couple hours," he admitted. "Had to ease around some, keep the blood flowin'."

"I know," Jayne nodded in sympathy. "Still, you did a good job. And you got good skills. I couldn't spot you, and didn't hear ya come up. That ain't no small thing, neither."

"Thanks, boss," the boy smiled once more, then headed into the ship. Jayne watched him go, then took out a chair, and sat down on the ramp. With nothing pressing on him, he figured he'd just sit here for a while.

Watching.

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Toby frowned as he saw the two Marshal's entering the office. He didn't really bear much of a grudge, but first impressions tended to last, and their's hadn't been one to write home about. Still, he allowed, it was good to have the help. He was the only investigator for the Sheriff's Office. Normally he was able to carry the load without much trouble. But something like this. . . .

"Good morning, Investigator," Bonds smiled. Reeves just nodded, but was smiling as well. She didn't normally have much to say, anyway, Toby knew.

"Mornin' folks," he forced a smile. "How are you?"

"We're fine, so far, but the day is young," Bonds replied, again with a grin. Toby decided he'd give the guy a second chance. The jury on Reeves was still out.

"So it is," Toby nodded in agreement. "I started a search a while ago on the cortex for unsolved murders with the same M.O.," he informed them. "Hope to have some results in a while. Big search, though," he added.

"We were thinking of doing the same thing," Reeves surprised him by speaking. "If this isn't an isolated case, there might be information from other open cases that could help us. With only two victims found so far, I'm afraid we could be looking at several more if we can't find the killer quickly." Toby nodded, his opinion of Reeves sliding up one notch. Grudgingly.

"Well, I don't know how long the search will take, and meanwhile, there's other crime to be solved. I'll leave you two to keep sortin' through the murder evidence, whilst I go out and try to assuage the voters who are still losing cows."

"Seems like that would take a backseat to a murder investigation," Bonds frowned, though his voice was thoughtful rather than disapproving.

"Well, I can't do anything on the murders until I get some more information," Toby informed the young Marshal. "Meantime, they don't pay me to sit here doin' nothin'. And crime is crime, far as I'm concerned. Besides," he smiled, "I figure I'm leaving this investigation in good hands. You both have glowing reports from your boss, so I'm confident that you'll do fine. Probably better than me," he added with a modest shrug. Both seemed shocked with that admission, and pleased at the faint praise.

"We'll do our best," Bonds assured him.

"Well, then, I best be off." With that Toby grabbed his hat and headed out of the office.

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Mal stretched carefully as he rose, trying to work the kinks from his aching body after a fitful night of sleep. He tried to be quiet, but when he turned he found Inara's brown eyes gazing at him. He smiled.

"Was tryin' to be quiet," he told her, bending slowly to offer her a kiss. She accepted, then smiled.

"You were," she told him. "But I was already awake. Watching you."

"Watchin' me?" Mal looked puzzled. "Why?"

"I just like to look at you," she told him, smiling. "When you're asleep, you are more at peace. Sometimes I like to lie here, gazing at you lovingly."

"Really," Mal smirked. "Well, I'll allow that," he told her. Inara rolled her eyes, but he could see the glint of humor in her eyes.

"What are you doing today?" she asked, rising from the bed herself. Mal took a minute to drink in her silhouette, clearly visible through the sheer material of her nightgown.

"Gotta go into the office, see what I can do about identifying the victims," he sighed. "Still no idea who they were, or where they came from." Inara frowned at that, her eyes looking pensive.

"Mal, just how bad is this?" she inquired softly. He sat down, taking her hand. He gently pulled her down beside him on the bed.

"It's bad," he admitted. "Real bad. Horrible, even." Mal had promised her he wouldn't hide anything from her after the attempt on his life. No matter how bad.

"Have you any idea at all why this is happening?" she asked.

"Just that the guy doin' it, well, likes it," Mal shrugged. He didn't miss Inara's shiver at that. "He kills for the pleasure of it."

"What an evil individual he must be," Inara almost whispered. "Do you think. . . .?" She trailed off, glancing out their window, but Mal knew what she was wondering.

"We're keepin' a strong eye out, 'Nara," he told her gently. "Jayne or Goldie one will always be here until this is ended. Not to mention Zoe and River. George has upped his security measures too. Hired more men, and put in new lighting. He's got his own people to think of," Mal shrugged at her questioning glance. "They are as much at risk as anyone else, I'd imagine."

"I suppose," she nodded absently. "Should I. . .do you think I should wait on the school? It's in the planning stages, and I already have a list of applicants, but I haven't given them a firm date for starting."

Mal considered that for a moment. He didn't like the idea of Inara being out and about. But this school was important to her. And, he remembered, once they had the house, their living quarters would be there. He'd be there with her at night, and she'd be much closer to him when he was working.

Then there was the fact that Inara, while not in the same class as River, or Zoe, wasn't exactly helpless. She had means and ways that he didn't even want to know about to defend herself. Ways she's learned as a Companion.

"You do as you think best, _ai ren_," Mal smiled. "I'd be right pleased to get things done in town, where you'd be closer to me. And, once we're set up, I can't see a reason not to start the schoolin'. How many students you plan on havin' at one time?"

"That depends on where they come from," Inara replied. "Those who are local can still live at home, while those farther away will need housing here. I've made tentative arrangements for up to ten students living on the premises. The house we looked at had the gate house, remember?" Mal nodded.

"It has sufficient room for ten," she continued. "At least that many. Once I'm established, and if the number of applicants justifies it, we can make an addition to the gate house. There is ample room there, I'm sure."

"Well, if you're that far along, I don't see no reason to wait," Mal told her, smiling. "When you're ready to talk to the bank, give me a wave, and I'll be right in."

"I will go today and make the final arrangements, then," Inara said firmly. "I'll ask River if she and Chelsa want to go along. Which means Liam, and probably Jayne, will also accompany us. Perhaps we can all have lunch together, if you have time?"

"Sounds like a plan," he smiled. "Now, I got to git or I'm gonna be late. I love you," he said, kissing her lightly.

"Love you more," she smiled as they broke apart.

"Gah!" he acted struck, then headed for work with Inara's laughter ringing in his ears.


	7. Chapter 7

Sins of the Past – Chapter Seven

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Mal would never have told Inara, but the fact that the Guild situation had been handled was a load off his mind. He'd been willing to sell everything he owned, including _Serenity_ herself, to make sure he could take care of Inara, but he hadn't been sure even that would have been enough.

As he walked to his ground car, he noted George Harwell coming toward him. He waved, and George held his hand up, indicating he'd like Mal to wait for him.

"Mornin' George," Mal said as the manager of Guilford's Agribusiness arrived.

"Mal," George nodded. "I was wondering if there was any news."

"Not unless somethin's come in whilst I was sleepin'," Mal admitted. "We're workin' on it. Got three people from the Marshal's service helpin', too."

"Still no luck in identifying the victims?" George asked. Mal shook his head.

"Not as yet. I'm actually hopeful 'bout that to be honest," he added. Harwell looked at him oddly, and Mal explained.

"If they was local, we'da knowed'em, most like. Since we still ain't ID'd 'em, it's more likely they came from outside the parrish. Still a chance they's from here, and no one missed'em, o' course, but still. If they _ain't_ local, then the killer most likely ain't in our actual area. He may just be using us as a. . .well, ain't no good way to say this, a dumpin' ground."

"And that's a good thing?" Harwell demanded.

"No, it ain't," Mal shook his head. "Well, not as good as him not bein' nowhere 'round us at all, anyways. Thing is, though, if he ain't doin' his killin' _here_, then our folks is less likely to be his victims. Long as people is aware o' what's occurrin', then they can be wary o' any strangers they notice hangin' round, and likely avoid runnin' into him all together."

"The thing is," Mal went on, "that also lowers our chances o' catchin' him. It's a hell of a thing," he admitted. "We want to catch him, but we'd rather he not be around here. Ain't neither way a real winner for none of us."

Harwell nodded, understanding now what Mal was driving at.

"Well, I can see the problem, but if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer he be killing his victims elsewhere. I know that sounds bad. . . ."

"Ain't nothin' I ain't done thought, George," Mal told him bluntly. "Don't want ya thinkin' less o' me for it, and I don't wanna wish no misfortune on no one else, but. . . ." Mal broke off with a shrug.

"I understand," Harwell replied. "And I won't say anything about it. I'd have to admit to agreeing with you. We'd both be in the dog house." Both men tried to share a laugh over that, but it fell flat.

"I mean to catch him, if we can at all," Mal said quietly.

"I know that without you tellin' me, Mal," George assured his friend. "If we can help. . . ."

"Just keep a wary eye out," Mal replied. "And, keep a look over this way on occasion, when I ain't around."

"I'll do just that," George promised. "And I'll have the night guards do the same thing." With that, the two men shook hands and parted ways. Mal got into his car, and was moving down the road when he spied Jayne, just sitting on the ramp of the _Companion_. He stopped, and got painfully out of the car again. Jayne rose, walking toward him.

"Ain't you got work to do?" Mal demanded gruffly, though he was smiling.

"I'm doin' it," Jayne told him. "I'm watchin' things. Boy kept watch last night. Hid so well even I couldn't find him." Mal's eyebrows rose at that.

"Stayed out here all night?" Mal asked.

"Yep," Jayne nodded. "I'll keep watch durin' the day. Goldie and Gerry gonna do the same when they're in. Zoe's gonna juggle flyin' schedules so one ship or the other is here all the time until things get. . .settled." Mal fought the urge to shake his head. He should have known that his people would be looking out for themselves. And for him and Inara.

"Told Inara, when you wasn't 'bout, she should bunk on ship," Jayne added. "And was she to go anywhere, she should tell me. And if she needed to be out after dark, call and me or the boy would come walk with her."

"Thanks, Jayne," Mal said softly. Jayne shrugged.

"Ain't nothin'," the big man replied just as quietly.

"Is to me," Mal assured him. "Well, I got to git into town, 'fore I ain't got a office no more. I'll feel better now, though, knowin' you got things in hand back here."

"We'll look after her," Jayne promised.

"Be seein' ya."

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Zoe wandered up on _Serenity'_s bridge, surprised to find Goldie sitting at the cortex.

"What you doin'?" she asked, walking over to where he sat.

"Lookin' for anything that matches the two women we found on the cortex," Goldie told her, not looking up. "Wanted to see if there's been anything like this in recent days, anywhere else."

"Good idea," Zoe nodded, taking a seat nearby. "Any luck?"

"Not yet," he admitted. "But it's a big search."

"We can check with the locals when we get to Astra," Zoe pointed out.

"No," Goldie shook his head at that. "That'd be steppin' on Mal's toes. Don't wanna do that. 'Sides, if there is anything, we oughta see it on here," he pointed to the monitor. Zoe nodded, thinking.

"Makes sense, I guess. Mal would likely check on that. Or Toby will," she added. Toby knew a great deal more about investigations than Mal.

"I figure," Goldie nodded. "Meantime, this here is somethin' I can do."

"I remember an old sayin' from when I was a girl," Zoe said, rising. She walked across the bridge, slid the door closed, and locked it.

"What's that?" Goldie smiled.

"All work, and no play, makes Goldie a dull boy," Zoe smiled, settling across his lap.

"Oh, _that_ saying. I remember that one!"

"Show me."

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River smiled as she came into the galley where Liam was eating heartily. She knew he'd been out all night. He had to be hungry.

"Good morning, Liam. How was your evening?"

"Mornin' ma'am," Liam nodded. "It was quiet, ma'am. No trouble."

"Liam, how many times must I tell you to call me River?" she sighed.

"Yes, ma'am," Liam nodded again, then looked back to his food. Shaking her head in amusement, River began preparing her own breakfast.

At first they had all eaten together, but eventually the crew of _Private Companion_ had decided that everyone would eat what they wanted, when they wanted, with the exception of the evening meal. It was good for the crew to have at least one meal a day together. True, they still took breakfast and lunch as a crew on occasion, but not as a rule. It was different from Mal's rule when they had all been on _Serenity_, but it worked for them.

Chelsa came stumbling in about then, yawning. She looked a little frowsy, obviously having just awakened. She stopped dead upon seeing Liam sitting at the table, and immediately scampered back to the safety of her bunk before he had seen her. River managed not to cackle at the horror in her daughter's eyes. Liam hadn't seen her, so River didn't let on that she had either.

Liam finished his meal and rose, taking his dishes to the sink.

"Leave them," River ordered. "I'll clean them."

"Won't take me but a minute, ma'am," Liam objected.

"Leave them and get some sleep," River insisted. "Go on," she shooed him away. Liam laughed a little, then went.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Argh!" River shouted, grabbing a skillet as if to hit him. Liam ran for the passageway, still laughing when his bunk hatch closed. Shaking her head again, River set about making breakfast for her family.

She enjoyed that.

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Inara walked over to _Companion_ late into the morning. She was going into town, and decided that the easiest way was simply to fly. She also wanted to see if River and Chelsa wanted to go. She was fairly sure that if they did, Jayne would also go. That would keep Mal happy. And Jayne as well, since Inara knew that he wouldn't want River or Chelsa out of his sight for long.

"Mornin' Inara," Jayne greeted her with a smile as she walked onto the ramp.

"Good morning, Jayne," Inara smiled back. Two years ago she would never have imagined speaking to Jayne in a friendly manner. Or at all, if it could be helped. Time had a way of changing things, however.

"I'm looking to recruit River and Chelsa for a shopping trip," she told him. "Are they here?"

"Up in the galley a few minutes ago," Jayne told her. "Gonna take a shuttle?"

"I thought I would," Inara nodded. "You don't have a run scheduled do you?"

"We won't be leavin' until _Serenity_ gets back," Jayne replied, which surprise Inara. Jayne saw her reaction and shrugged.

"Well, then, yes, I was wanting to use a shuttle."

"I do believe that you are engaged to the owner," Jayne winked. "Might's well be yers, I reckon." She laughed lightly, and continued on her way. It was still a strange feeling, knowing that the ship was named for her. But it was flattering. Very flattering in fact. Going up the stairs, she found River and Chelsa were indeed in the galley.

"Hello, Inara!" River beamed. "You look lovely!"

"Hello, Miss Inara," Chelsa smiled as well. After a brief embrace, Inara got to the point.

"I need to go into Bickford, and wondered if you two would like to go along. I have some shopping to do, and I need to make the final arrangements on the house. Afterward, we'll have lunch. Mal should be with us, if he has time today."

"Sounds like a plan to me," River nodded. "Flying?"

"I wanted to, yes," Inara nodded. "Will that work?"

"I assume you want to fly, yourself," River gave her a knowing look.

"Well, I. . .yes," Inara replied. "I was wanting to."

"Of course," River waved airily. "It's practically your ship, after all," came the chuckle afterward. Inara giggled a bit at that, and Chelsa joined in.

"I'll need to tell Jayne. . . ." River started, just as Jayne walked in.

"We ready to go?" he asked, looking at the women assembled in the galley.

"I didn't think you'd want to go shopping," Inara told him.

"You knew soon's you said you wanted all o' you to go to town, I was goin'," Jayne smirked. Inara reddened slightly, but said nothing.

"It's not necessary for you to go, _bao bei_," River told him. Jayne snorted, and headed toward their bunk. He stopped by to let Liam know that they'd be off ship, and to keep his bunk locked, just in case, then moved on to collect some hardware. River just shook her head as she watched him go.

"He worries," Inara told her.

"Too much," River agreed. "But that's one of the many reasons I love him," she admitted.

It took twenty minutes for the women to declare themselves ready for town. Soon, the shuttle was on it's way. With Jayne aboard.

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Kaylee and Caleb were hard at work when lunch time rolled around. They were having a very busy day. So busy that they had idly considered hiring another mechanic. They had decided against it in the end, since they weren't sure that the volume of work would continue. Farm equipment servicing and repair tended to be seasonal. They hadn't been on Argo long enough to gauge whether they would stay busy year round or not as yet.

Simon had, for once, had a slow morning, and decided that he would surprise the two of them with lunch. Not cooking, of course. His cooking had not improved. Even a little. Instead he headed to the canteen, and picked up three very excellent sandwiches, popular soft drinks, chips and other accessories, and walked the short way over to the shop.

"Look what the cat dragged in!" Caleb was the first to see him.

"Simon!" Kaylee almost squealed. "What you doin' here, _ai ren_?"

"I have had a slow day so far, and thought I'd bring some lunch to my favorite wife and father-in-law," Simon smiled.

"Daddy are you gonna stand there and let him insinuate he's got more wives than just me?" Kaylee demanded, hands on her hips.

"He did say you were his favorite, Kay," Caleb laughed. "And he brought food," the older man pointed out.

"Men are all alike," Kaylee snorted playfully. She kissed Simon lightly, careful not to get grease on his clothes. The three of them took seats in the air conditioned office and began to eat.

"Any news 'bout what's happenin'?" Caleb asked around a mouthful of corned beef.

"None that I've heard," Simon shook his head. "I know that the plant has put on extra security. And Jayne and Goldie have worked out a plan where one ship is always here at all times. The men on the ships are maintaining a guard of their own."

"I can't imagine how someone could do some'at like that," Kaylee shook her head sadly.

"All kinds of bad in the world, little Kay," Caleb shrugged. "Always a wolf at the door, somewhere."

"Well, so long as we're careful, and take precautions, we should be all right," Simon put in. "No one knows who the victims were, yet. For all we know, they were killed far away, and left here because we're such a rural area."

"Possible," Caleb allowed. "Still, ain't no sense takin' chances." He nodded to the corner, where a rifle sat. Simon nodded in agreement, patting his side. Beneath his shirt was something he'd had Jayne pick out for him. A compact but powerful handgun. Kaylee wasn't aware, but Jayne and Goldie had both been teaching Simon the finer points of gun handling.

"Well, I hope they catch him soon, so's we can get back to normal," Kaylee said. Simon chuckled bitterly.

"What is normal, Kaylee, for all of us?"

His favorite wife had no answer to that but a sad shrug.

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"Oh, I like this," River exclaimed. Inara and Chelsa made similar ooh and ahh noises, while Jayne grunted, shaking his head. The group were currently in a local general store that stocked several finer things for the more well to do women in the parish. The subject of admiration was a bolt of dress material.

"What does that mean?" River demanded, looking at Jayne.

"What does what mean?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"I heard that grunt," River accused. "It's your 'whatever' grunt. And don't roll your eyes, either." Jayne stopped his eye roll just in time.

"I ain't said nothin'," Jayne muttered. "And how the hell do you attach names to somethin' like a _grunt_?" he demanded. Politely.

"That's how you grunt when you want to say 'whatever' but are afraid of the consequences," River informed him, eyebrow arching dangerously.

"I already said, I ain't said nothin'. Ain't got nothin' ta say, now, neither," Jayne informed his wife, giving her 'the look'.

"I'm not afraid of the 'leave me be look', either," River replied. "You don't have to be here, you know."

"Yes, I do," Jayne crossed his arms, his face set. "And I ain't leavin', and you ain't runnin' me off. You can read my 'looks' and 'grunts' so well, take a look at me now, and tell me am I lyin'." River studied him for a moment, then sighed.

"No, you intend to stay," she agreed.

"Damn straight I do," Jayne nodded firmly. "And I'll stay long as you wanna. But don't expect me to go all 'ooh and ahh' over every piece o' frippery you all come 'cross. Ain't happenin'," he ended his speech with a determined 'grunt'.

"Very well, ape headed husband. Come along."

"Hey!"

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Mal managed to make it to lunch. He and Jayne exchanged nods of understanding, but said nothing about their earlier talk. River didn't miss the 'nod', nor did Inara, but both decided to ignore it. The men were stubborn to a fault. There was no real use.

"So what have ya'll been spendin' ya money on today?" Mal asked brightly.

"I got new clothes!" Chelsa exclaimed happily. She had found two pair of cargo pants, like those Jayne wore, that fit her, and had wheedled River until she was allowed to get them. She had gotten Jayne's nod of approval right off, of course, so River had known that resistance was futile. Jayne would simply see that she got them later.

More telling, perhaps was that she had picked out three pair of the same pants for Liam. Had known exactly what size to get him.

"How is it you come ta know what size pants he wears?" Jayne had frowned, his eyes suspicious.

"I do his mending," Chelsa had told him, wide eyed and innocent looking. "I know the size of all his clothes." Jayne's look clearly said he didn't believe that for a second, (it happened to be true, though) but he said nothing. Inara and River exchanged hidden grins over Jayne's father like grumbling.

Mal hadn't taken the news any better.

"What in the _gor_. . .uh, how is it you know what size pants Liam wears?" he demanded, though he ended that demand in a softer voice than he had started it, thanks to a glare from Inara. Rolling her eyes expressively, Chelsa repeated her answer for Mal.

"Huh," Mal grunted, much the same as Jayne had. This time River couldn't contain a chuckle, and Inara caught the bug from her. Chelsa remained silent.

"What's so funny?" Mal demanded.

"You two are," Inara said between giggles. Every time she looked at Mal's outraged face, she flew into another fit of them. "Trying to act all protective. Liam already took a bullet for her, Mal. I think his intentions are honorable."

"Be that as it may," Mal said sternly, trying to rally, "t'ain't proper a girl her age havin' knowledge of a man's clothes."

"I'm only two years younger than he is!" Chelsa blurted. Realizing what she had done, Chelsa's face reddened, and her hand flew to her mouth. River sighed, Inara shook her head, and Jayne looked as if he was ready to take his belt to her. Mal just chuckled. Everyone turned to look at him.

"I'm the sheriff round here," he told them, hooking his thumbs into his suspenders. "You think I don't know how old the boy is? Or ain't, more to the point?" He grinned, leaning forward.

"Have to be better'n that ta keep a secret from me." No one knew just what to say to that, though Jayne snorted in amusement. He wasn't surprised that Mal knew Liam's real age. Two of Liam's brothers, older brothers, worked for Mal after all. It had just been a matter of time.

"You won't fire him, will you?" Chelsa asked finally. Mal considered her warily.

"Well, I hadn't planned on it," he told her. He allowed the relief to flood through her before continuing. "Course, that's 'fore I knew you and him was bein' all domestic. Now, I'll have to rethink that. Don't know that it's seemly, him and you bein' on the ship together." Chelsa's face fell so far, so fast, that Mal wondered if her teeth were gonna have to catch up. He allowed her to suffer for about a minute.

"No, I ain't gonna fire 'im," he snorted finally. "Boy's a good hand, and a fine body to have stand by in case of trouble. Done proved it more'n once, and that's a fact. You need ta learn how not to tell all ya know, though, gal. Ain't never no tellin' who's a listenin' in." Chelsa nodded, chagrined.

"Let that be a lesson to ya," Mal concluded. "Now, let's eat. Sheriffin' is hard work."

The laughter at that drowned out Mal's complaints of no respect.

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He watched silently, hidden from everyone. He was good at hiding. He could hide anywhere, even in plain sight. He'd learned early in life to make himself blend in. Be invisible. People tended to ignore him.

Missing the danger he represented until it was too late.

He was feeling the need to create tonight. Feeling it very strongly indeed. He resisted it. He wasn't prepared. He'd always been so careful, so prepared. That was how he had managed to stay undetected all this time. To act without thinking, without preparation, was dangerous. Against all he knew, all he believed. Against his instincts. Instincts that had served him well.

So he fought the urging he felt. To create art as only he could, painting with pain, and suffering. Creating fear in his victim, seeing it in their eyes. Almost tasting it before finally finishing with each new work. Creating fear in the people around him through his work, reveling in their insecurity. Their uncertainty. Their fear.

Fear of him.

But it was difficult, because he was eager, tonight. More eager than he had been in so very long.

For today he had seen someone special. Someone very special. A nearly perfect canvas on which to near perfect as he had ever encountered. So very close to ideal for his needs. And worthy of his talent.

He was patient, despite the urge. This was too good to allow impatience to force him to move before all was in readiness.

He would wait. He would watch. He would plan.

Only then would he act.

__

_Remember, if you want to see a sample of my original fiction, check out my new blog. Badkarma00(dot)wordpress(dot)com. Have to spell the dots, or the DOC won't load the website, lol. If you do go, I'd appreciate it if you let me know what you think. Oh, and check back there on occasion, since I'll be adding more sample chapters for other original stuff. BAD_


	8. Chapter 8

Sins of the Past – Chapter Eight

The writer writes only for his own amusement and that of others. Okay not to sue him.

_You can't take the sky from me. But you DID take Firefly from me, FOX, you dipsticks._

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It was peaceful for almost two weeks. Almost.

_Serenity_ was in port, with _Companion _away on her run. Zoe and Goldie were sitting on the ramp, enjoying their lunch, and sunning. The weather was just cool enough to be pleasant today, and they wanted to be off ship. Mindful of how their last effort to be enjoying the day had turned out, they had, by unspoken agreement, opted for something simple. Something close to home.

Something safe, in other words.

They should have known better. They hadn't quite finished their lunch when Mal's ground car pulled up to the ship, and the harried looking Sheriff got out, walking toward them with hesitant purpose. Zoe and Goldie exchanged a look.

"This can't be good," Zoe murmured.

"Nope," Goldie agreed, getting reluctantly to his feet, then helping Zoe to rise.

"What brings you out our way, sir?" Zoe asked, smiling almost against her will.

"Need to see Goldie," Mal couldn't quite bring himself to look at his friend. "Need him to come take a look at something."

"No," Zoe said flatly before Goldie could respond. Both men looked at her. Her gaze didn't falter a whit.

"Not no more," she shook her head, tone definite and uncompromising. "We done helped. Ain't nothin' more you're like to need from him. And we ain't gonna be around them Marshal's no more. Next time, I'll kill her." Mal sighed.

"Zoe, them Marshal's is helpin', believe it or not. And they ain't gonna say no more to you 'bout it. Their jobs depend on me. Pissin' me off is career suicide for either one of'em. And I let'em know in no uncertain terms that was the fastest way to do it. So you can relax 'bout them."

"Don't matter," Zoe maintained her stoicism. "We been through a lot on account o' all this. Sleepless nights, nightmares when sleep did come, and more'n one harsh word or two. We ain't goin' through that no more." She paused, looking at Mal closely. "It ain't our job. Sir."

Mal studied her for a moment. He'd known Zoe a long time. Knew her moods, and her attitudes. She was serious.

"Zoe, I'm sorry 'bout that," Mal tried reason. "I am. Could I stop it, I would and you know it. But Goldie here's got first hand knowledge of how this _hundan_ works, and I need his imput."

"I recall the story correctly, sir," Zoe replied, "then two o' your deputies got that same experience, and it _is_ their job. They get paid for it. Use them."

"Zo'," Goldie tried to interject, but a glare from her cut him off. He was almost angry at the way she was making decisions for him, but he knew that she had suffered too. Because of him. And things had been getting better, the last few days. So he swallowed what anger he might have had, and let her talk.

"I am usin'em, Zo'," Mal promised. "But Goldie is smart, and he see's things rest of us sometimes looks over. I need him."

"No." The word was out almost before Mal had finished speaking. Flat, straight, and final. Mal sighed, then looked at Goldie.

"Ain't happenin'," Goldie shook his head. "If she says no, then that's what I say, too. I won't ever not back her, Mal. Ever. Nor go against what she wants, neither. Be better for us all, I reckon, was you not to ask me." Goldie kept his voice friendly, but unyielding. He meant what he said.

"All right," Mal didn't try to hide his disappointment, but he wasn't angry. He'd felt like a _hundan_ anyway, coming out here in the first place. He'd put them through too much of late as it was.

"Well, I got to go," he said finally. "And I don't blame ya none. Wish I didn't have ta deal with it, neither." With that he started back to his car. As he drove away, Goldie looked at Zoe.

"Just for the future," he said amicably, "I'd prefer to make my own choices. I wouldn't have gone," he added, turning back to their blanket. "Just so you know."

"I'm sorry," Zoe told him after a brief pause. "And you're right. I should have let you say it. But. . .I don't want you to have to go through that again. And I don't wanna have to, either. Mal's a good man, and I love him like I would a brother. But he sometimes don't stop to think what he's askin' o' people. This might be one o' those times." She took her place beside him, air deflating out of her all at once.

"Took a lot for you to stand up to him," Goldie observed.

"I. . .I suppose," she murmured, shaking her head. "I hate to do it, I really do. But he _does_ have people who get paid for this. We're shippers. That's what we get paid for. I don't want to be no sheriff. We've fought long and hard for what we got. I don't wanna lose it." She reached out and took his hand.

"Any of it," she added, looking deep into his eyes. Goldie squeezed her hand tightly.

"Me either."

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Toby and the two Marshal's were gathered around a small grove of trees when Mal arrived at the scene. It was eerily reminiscent of the first scene. Mal found himself glad that Zoe had been so adamant in her refusal. Especially since Bonds and Reeves were present.

"What do we have," Mal asked as he approached the small knot of people. Toby looked at him a little funny, Mal noted. As he got there, and looked at the victim, he saw why.

The woman had been pretty, Mal noted abstractly. Small, wiry, with mousy blond/brown hair hanging in waves off her head. As with the last victim, she was 'fresh', having not been dead long. Mal could still see the look of pain and terror on her features, and felt a shiver along his spine. As he looked closer, another shiver ran through his entire body.

"She looks. . . ."

"Like River," Toby finished for him, looking peaked. "When I. . .I swear, when I first saw her, I thought just for a minute it _was_ her. Scared me," the man admitted. Mal nodded.

"Any idea who she is?" Mal asked, watching as Bonds and Reeves carefully reviewed the scene.

"Not yet," Toby sighed. "I'm gettin' so tired o' sayin' that," he added, a note of dejection in his voice.

"I understand," Mal agreed. "We found any kinda tie in between the victims?"

"Nothin' but how they looked," Toby shrugged. "Without knowin' who they are, it's hard to connect'em."

"Looked?" Mal asked, confused. Toby looked at him.

"You ain't realized?" he asked. Mal shook his head.

"They're all nearly identical build, features, everything," Toby told him. "Same hair color and style, same height and weight, you name it, they match within a whisker."

"I. . .I admit I hadn't noticed it," Mal told him. "I guess with so much else goin' on. . . ." he shrugged helplessly.

"I didn't until I started reviewing the coroner's report on the first two," Toby admitted. "It was fresh on my mind when I got here, so it really stood out."

"Well, that's a start, anyway," Mal tried to sound hopeful. "Maybe we'll get something useful from this scene."

"Don't bet on it," Bonds told him, walking up to the two men from the scene. "I'm sorry, sir, but it's clean as the others. Whoever this guy is, he's meticulous. There's not a stray fiber, hair, nothing. He's got this down to a science. No, more like an art."

"Some art," Mal snorted, looking again at what had once been a pretty young woman. He looked away quickly, again shook by the similarities between this victim and River.

"It wasn't a compliment, boss," Bonds assured him. Of the two Marshals, it was Bonds who had most easily slipped into his role of supporting the Sheriff. He had an entirely new view now of local law enforcement. At least in this parish.

Reeves was coming along as well, Mal grudgingly admitted. She was still chafing a bit at her sub-status in the investigation, but she was a good investigator, and, once the rules were laid out plainly, a team player.

"Well, let's get things finished so we can get that poor child outta here," Mal ordered, turning to leave. "She deserves that, I reckon."

Mal felt a lot older than he had just two weeks ago.

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Jayne and River were walking along the way to their favorite restaurant in Astra. Liam and Chelsa were close behind, talking quietly. River had noted the tension in Liam of late, and knew that he was aware of what was happening at home. Chelsa was, as yet, not completely aware of the danger.

_Possible danger_, she reminded herself. Jayne was absolutely positive that the man that had grabbed Blade that dark night was dead. She could feel that surety even now. That meant the person responsible for the killings on Argo was someone else.

She also knew of Jayne's concern that they had killed the wrong man. That the man who had taken Blade that stormy night was either an accomplice, or worse, a copycat. There was no way to know, now. Not after so long. That worried Jayne almost beyond reason.

River was glad they were on Astra for the moment, as here Jayne didn't seem to be so. . .streaky. He wasn't calm, by any means, but he was better. Some better.

"Here we are," Jayne remarked, jolting River from her thoughts. He looked at her in concern.

"You okay?"

"Fine, _Zhang Fu_," she smiled. "Just thinking."

"'Bout what?" he asked. She smiled again.

"This and that," she avoided answering directly. "Rambling and rumblings," she added with a small laugh. Jayne wasn't entirely convinced, but he accepted the answer without further questions. He also turned to make sure that Liam and Chelsa were still behind them. Something he had done at least a dozen times in the ten minute walk from the ship to the diner.

"They are still there," she assured him. He nodded absently.

"Just checking."

"I would know if something happened," she reminded him gently. He looked down.

"Yeah, 'spect you would," he nodded again, then looked back, _again_. River fought the urge to sigh. Until this problem was dealt with, Jayne would not be her Jayne. He would be distant and troubled. Not cold. He was never cold to her. He was capable of being _very_ cold, of course. But that was never for her. For her there was never anything but warmth. Whenever he looked at her, even now, distracted as he was, there was a halo of yellow/orange warmth around him. Sighing again, this time in satisfaction, she followed him into the restaurant.

Jayne walked in last. Of course.

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_Companion_ lifted off from Astra just after midnight. They were never on any certain schedule, and after returning from dinner, everyone was awake and alert. Seeing this, Jayne had spoken to River, and they had decided to head on home. With traffic at it's lowest ebb, River had decided that it was time for Chelsa to pilot the ship off the ground, and into the black.

Jayne had _not_ been a part of that decision. She had slyly suggested that he and Liam make sure the cargo bay was squared away, adding that he could make sure Liam wasn't fraying under all the pressure.

Under River's watchful eyes, Chelsa lit up the ship, calling Holly to make sure that all was ready.

"We're good to go, little one," Holly had replied, and River could almost hear the man's smile. He had spent a good deal of time teaching Chelsa about the engine and systems as well. He knew she was able.

She wasn't so sure about Jayne, hence the subterfuge.

"Right, Holly," Chelsa's voice betrayed her nervousness. She was fighting to stay calm. "Lifting now." With that, she eased the control column back, adding power slowly as the ship shuddered slightly, then seemed to leap skyward. Chelsa almost panicked at that.

"Easy," River soothed. "That's not uncommon, and this is your first take-off. It will get easier with time."

"I hope so," the girl muttered under her breath. River's breath almost caught at how similar to Jayne that had sounded.

Chelsa, meanwhile, was scanning the instrument panel and the screen all at the same time it seemed, so fast were her eyes moving. River watched from the co-pilot's seat, ready to take control at a second, if it was needed.

But she had taught Chelsa well, it seemed. After the slight bobble at take-off, she had the ship flying smoothly. Far sooner than she thought, it was time to exit atmo, and slide into the black.

"Angle on the bow," River reminded gently, as Chelsa adjusted their rate of climb.

"I got it," Chelsa replied with far more confidence than she felt. She nevertheless checked the angle, ensuring that _Companion_'s nose was at the proper angle. Suddenly flame washed over the screen. Even though she had been expecting it, waiting for it even, Chelsa gasped as the cockpit was sheathed in the friction flame/heat of leaving the atmosphere of the planet below.

"Gently," River again soothed from her seat. "You're doing fine, baby."

"Thank you, momma," Chelsa said without thinking. River's breath _did_

catch at that. Chelsa had called her _momma_!

Fortunately, Chelsa did everything else right. Because River wasn't really paying attention after that.

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"That take-off was a mite rougher'n normal, there," Jayne complained, as he walked onto the bridge. He was shocked to see Chelsa sitting in the pilot's chair. He looked to River, and was more shocked to see a trickle of tears on his wife's face.

"You all right?" he asked hurriedly, forgetting the slightly rough ride.

"Our daughter has put us into the black," River said softly, and Jayne nodded, figuring that it was a woman thing to cry when a young'un did good.

"I did it Daddy!" Chelsa leaped from her seat, having already engaged the auto-pilot. "I really did it!"

"So it would appear," Jayne hugged the girl to him, a little stunned at being called 'Daddy'. It was okay, he figured. Just unexpected. _Now_ he understood River's tears.

"I'm sorry about the rough ride," Chelsa apologized as she back away.

"Ain't nothin' broke," Jayne told her with a grin. "Better'n ya momma's first take off," he added with a chuckle.

"Unfair comparison," River said at once. "_Baba_ was assisting. Had I not had his _help_, take off would have been trouble free."

"She always has an excuse," Jayne winked at Chelsa, and River's face reddened slightly.

"_Reason_," she corrected, with a note of exasperation. "Reasons are not always excuses."

"Right," Jayne replied seriously.

"Neanderthal brain incapable of understanding the difference anyway," River sniffed haughtily. Turning to Chelsa she hugged her _daughter_.

"I'm very proud of you," she smiled. "You did wonderful. Once you've mastered take-off, all that will remain is landing."

"Be a while, I 'spect, 'fore we need to practice that," Jayne warned, but softened the comment with a smile, and a wink for Chelsa.

"Can I go tell Liam now?" Chelsa asked. River nodded.

"Yes, you are relieved," she joked. Chelsa was gone in a flash, leaving husband and wife alone on the bridge.

"I take it that 'momma' was the reason for them tears?" Jayne asked, once the girl was gone. River nodded, falling into Jayne's arms.

"It was so natural, just like with you," she almost sobbed in joy. "She didn't think about it, she just said it!"

For a little while, despite all the trouble at home, things were normal. Peaceful. Joyful.

If only it could stay just like that. Forever.


	9. Chapter 9

Sins of the Past – Chapter Nine

Author makes no money from his efforts, and writes only for entertainment and joy. No copyright infringement intended. All hail Joss. Or something like that.

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Mal wasn't surprised to see a collection of commissioners at his office that afternoon. _Good news travels fast,_ he thought sourly.

"Folks," he nodded politely at the collection of officials in the lobby. "What can we do you for, today?"

"We need to meet, Mal," Braz Guilford said quietly, his normal cheeriness subdued. Mal nodded.

"How 'bout we step into the briefin' room, then," he offered. "We can talk there 'thout bein' interrupted." He looked at Evelyn, who nodded that she had heard. No interruptions. Mal waited at the door while the five commissioners filed in, then entered behind them, and closed the door.

"'Spect I know why the visit," Mal said calmly, taking a seat with them. "But go ahead."

"Mal," Harmon Fuller started, "we understand you've found a third murder victim." Fuller's voice wasn't a challenge like it once would have been. The two men had reached an understanding after the episode with the Nine, and had established a friendship even.

"That's true," Mal sighed. "This mornin'. Same as the other two," he added, knowing that would be the next question.

"What are you doing about it?" Margaret Triple asked. Her voice was almost a challenge.

"We're doing everything we can think of," Mal admitted. "And the Marshal's Service too," he added. "The main problem at this point, is that we can't identify any of the victims. There's no missing persons report on any of them, and there was no identification on them, of course. We don't even know where they were from," he shrugged helplessly.

"What does the Marshal's Service have to say, Mal?" Braz asked.

"They're as puzzled as we are," Mal replied. "We're trying to search for similar cases, elsewhere. Someone like this, at least with his profile, has likely done this before. And, if we don't catch him, he will again, some place else."

"I hardly think it's your job to worry about someplace else!" Triple said harshly. "Your job is to worry about this parish!"

"A job I take very seriously, Madame Commissioner," Mal told her flatly. "This is no different. And I'm not worried about solving crimes anywhere but here. But I need information to do that. One way of getting it is to find out, if possible, where this monster has struck before. Any clues other agencies may have could well help us."

"Have you had any luck at all, Mal?" Fuller asked. Mal shook his head.

"No sir, we haven't. The only connection we've been able to establish between the victims is physical appearance. All the victims have been the same physical build, same features, everything. But that's not helping us find the killer."

"Have you at least warned the women who fit the killer's victims?" Triple asked snidely. Mal wondered what her problem was.

"Ma'am, how would you suggest I do that?" Mal asked calmly. "We'll certainly 'leak' that information to the newspaper, so that people will be aware of it. But I don't have any way at all to warn every woman on the moon who fits the description. Don't even know a way to _find_ them."

"Why 'leak'?" Braz asked.

"People tend to believe 'inside' information more readily than if it comes straight from a briefing," Mal surprised them all with that one. "I want people to hear this, and take is serious. While they might ignore straight out information, they'll likely pay attention to something they think I'd rather not be known."

"You're taking a chance with that," Fuller warned. "People might think that you're trying to hide something from them."

"I'll accept that if it makes people pay attention to what's happenin'," Mal shrugged. "So far as we can tell, none of the three victims are from here. But that don't mean that the killer won't strike here in the future. I want people warned, and hopefully on the look out. It's about all we can do, without better information."

"The Marshal's are using a DNA database to search for the victims," he added. "But, unless there's some reason for the victim to be in the database, the search won't turn up anything. At this point, though, our best bet is to identify at least one of the poor women. And that don't include bein' able to let their families know what's become of'em. I know if my young'un was missin', I'd wanna know."

"But it's _not_ your 'young'un', as you so cavalierly put it, Sheriff," Triple jumped in again.

"No ma'am, it ain't," Mal nodded. "I ain't fortunate enough to have children as yet. Hope to, but I reckon that's up to the Man upstairs as much as me." Triple snorted.

"Being properly married might help with that," she said acidly. Mal's eyes hardened.

"Is your attitude toward me because of my job as Sheriff, ma'am, or because of my marital status?" The woman's glare was answer enough.

"I don't think we need to delve into the Sheriff's personal life, Marge," Harmon warned with a withering glare at the pompous woman. "I can't see that it's effecting his job. And it seems to me that everything that can be done, is being done."

"I quite agree," Guilford nodded, giving the woman a not so polite glance of his own. "We'll get out of your hair, Mal," Braz rose from his chair. As senior member of the council, that signified that the 'meeting' was over.

"Never a problem for any of you to come by here, sir," Mal assured them. "I'm glad you're all aware o' what's happenin'. And, if any of you got any ideas I can use, I'd sure welcome'em." Everyone but Triple nodded at that. Mal's willingness to listen was one of the things that gave him so much support on the council. That, and his ability to get the job done.

"Take care, Mal," Fuller shook his hand. "Whatever you need, we'll see that you get it. Find this animal as fast as you can."

"We'll do our dead level best," Mal promised. He waited until the procession had departed before allowing himself to deflate a bit. He'd known it was coming. That didn't make it any easier.

And he couldn't blame them, either. They were worried for their people, their own families, and themselves. He was too. As long as this monster was free, or breathing, then he was a threat to everyone around him.

Everyone.

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_He walked along, unnoticed as usual. He was pleased today. He had created a wonderful work recently. He was now enjoying the benefits of that work. He could practically smell the fear along the street as he moved in and out among the people of Bickford. They were touchy. Irritable. Covering their fear with anger. Their uncertainty with abruptness. Their horror with disdain for others._

_He reveled in it._

_Unlike others of his kind in the past, he had no need to taunt, entice, or engage the people trying to catch him. He didn't want to be caught. Didn't intend to be caught. When it looked like the police were getting close to him, he'd simply leave. Like he always had._

_It was a solitary existence. True, he had taken the occasional apprentice. Understudy. But they had never worked out very well. Some were caught, some were killed. Some tried to take over for the master, and had to be put down._

_He hadn't taken anyone in under his wing in a long time. The last had been an idiot, despite his apparent intelligence. He had chosen his first victim poorly. And he had paid for it. It was too bad really. He had shown such promise._

_One couldn't have an omelet without the broken egg, of course. He smiled at that. He would break more than eggs. He would break the entire moon, before he was finished. It was what he did._

_What he lived for._

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_Serenity_ cleared the pad at Guilford's just a few hours before _Companion _was due to return. It wasn't perfect, but there was product to be shipped, and as Zoe has said, that was their job. The two ships passed in the black, and Zoe and River exchanged notes.

"So you told him no?" River was surprised, but not overly so.

"I did," Zoe nodded firmly. "Ain't that I don't wanna help, River, but we've done what we can. We're a shipping crew. Cap'n's got deputies who can deal with this, and I don't want no more part of it."

"I can understand that," River nodded. "I don't know what Jayne will do, but I suspect he will feel as Goldie does. He wants to be shed of it. All of it."

"I hope they catch him soon," Zoe frowned.

"I hope they catch him at all," River sighed. "This man has apparently been doing this for a great long time, Zoe. If he hasn't been caught by now, the likelihood of his being apprehended here is low."

"Thanks for cheering me up, River," Zoe grumped. River smiled in spite of herself.

"Well, he has never gone up against Captain Daddy of course," she pointed out. "That may be the deciding factor."

"Bhudda help us," Zoe rolled her eyes. "Well, you guys fly safe."

"You as well." The wave broke, and River turned back to the ship's controls. Zoe had stood up to _Baba_, putting her foot firmly down. She wondered if she could do the same. Or should.

"What's up?" Jayne's voice came from behind her. She turned.

"Just talked to Zoe," River explained, relaying the conversation. Well, most of it.

"Told him no, huh?" Jayne had just a hint of a smile at that. "I'd like to o' seen that. Just for reference," he added at River's frown.

"I'm sure," his wife said drily.

"Well, far as I know, she ain't never told him 'no' 'bout nothin' before," Jayne shrugged. "Would o' added more realism if I coulda seen it. That's all."

"I agree it was unusual," River nodded. "But the situation is unusual. What will you do?" she asked directly. There was nothing to be gained by playing around a subject with Jayne. There never had been.

"'Bout what?" Jayne asked. "Helpin' Mal? I done helped," he shrugged. "Ain't nothin' I can do no more. Likely ain't nothin' _anybody_ can do, tell the truth." This was said with a hint of. . .what? Uncertainty? Doubt?

"It isn't your fault, you know," River said softly. Jayne shrugged again.

"'Parently, we killed the wrong man," he said calmly. "Had we killed the right'un, then this wouldn't be happenin' now. So, in a way, it's my fault. _Our_ fault," he added.

"Not your fault," River persisted stubbornly. "Man is evil. A monster. Kills for joy. Torments for pleasure. This has nothing to do with you. You tried to stop him, and _did_ stop someone who was working in the same way. Do not try and accept blame for something you have no control over."

Jayne looked at her for a moment, then nodded. Reluctantly. She fought a sigh.

"So you will not assist _Baba_ anymore?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Don't rightly see how I can," Jayne replied. "If'n he's got some way I can, be hard not to help, though," he admitted.

"I. . .I would rather that you not," she told him. He looked at her.

"Why?" he asked, looking at her puzzled. Always before, she had insisted that he help _Baba_.

"I don't like what this does to you," she replied. "I do not care for the effects. You sleep less. You sleep fitfully if at all. You have nightmares that are. . .painful to feel. And you are not yourself. I want you to be as you were." Jayne considered that for a moment, then nodded.

"I can see that," he said finally. "All right. Unless it's somethin' no one else can do, I won't worry over it no more. It ain't really my job no way. Fair enough?"

"For now," River sighed, knowing that it was the best she would get.

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Inara walked through the empty house, eyeing the rooms, mentally placing furniture and fixtures. She didn't have everything she wanted, as yet, but she did have some furniture in storage that she was sure would look wonderful in the house. The mortgage on the property had been very reasonable, the lien note well within the budget she kept for her and Mal.

Soon, within a few days, she hoped, they would be living here. Already she had contacted a mover, and they would be bringing everything from the small building they had been living in at the plant, along with her goods from the storage building closer to town. She had also picked out a few pieces locally, all hand made goods of excellent craftsmanship. For the rest, she would have to go to Astra.

That wasn't a problem of course. She would hitch a ride with Jayne and River on their return trip. There would be enough room on the _Companion _to carry everything she needed.

Perhaps with living closer to town, Mal would get more rest. It was hard on him driving the near fifty miles from the plant everyday into the office. Of course that wasn't the only thing keeping him from resting. Inara sighed, leaning against the wall.

This thing with the killer among them was eating away at Mal. Before, when he had an enemy he could fight, he was on edge, but in a cautious, wary kind of way. The soldier.

This was something else entirely. Mal, and the rest of them, were fighting a ghost. With no idea whatsoever what he looked like, where he was, of even where he was getting his victims from. This was more in line with a true investigation, where gunplay couldn't really accomplish much until and unless the man was found.

Mal was smart, she knew. And cunning. But this was a dilemma that had stumped more than just him. And the Marshal's service was just as stalled. No leads of any kind. No evidence. Nothing. And Mal was taking all that very personally.

It was eating him up. He didn't sleep well, he wasn't eating properly, and his limp was becoming more pronounced every day. He had lost at least ten pounds between worrying and not eating properly. She realized with a start that Mal had not taken a day off in nearly three weeks. Well, she couldn't help with the killings, but she _could _help with that.

Mal would not be working the weekend. At all.

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"'Nara I can't just take off for the whole weekend while. . ."

"You aren't going to help anyone by winding up in the hospital again," Inara pointed out. "If I have to, I'll get Simon involved, and you'll be off for a week. Maybe two," she threatened. "So what will it be. A weekend of rest and recovery, or two weeks of nothing?"

"Fine," he grumped, knowing she wasn't above doing just that. "But if the Commissioners come callin' wantin' ta know where I am, 'stead o' out lookin' fer. . . ."

"You let _me_ handle the Commission, Sheriff_,_" Inara told him firmly. "We'll be in the house by Friday. When you leave the office, _on time_, Friday, you will not do any 'sheriffy' things until Monday morning. _Dong ma?_"

"Yeah, yeah," he nodded. Couldn't fight the woman. She would win every time.

"Very good," Inara smiled. "Now, I have work to do, and I'm sure you do as well. I'll see you tonight."

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Despite Jayne's objection, which he mostly did to maintain his reputation, Chelsa was again at the helm when _Companion_ entered atmo over Argo. River was again seated at the co-pilot's station, watching her every move. Jayne had opted to wait below, once River had told him to. She didn't want Jayne looking over Chelsa's shoulder. It was hard enough flying for the first time.

"Engines set for re-entry, Little Bit," Holly called. Chelsa grinned, though still nervous.

"We're headed in now, Holly," she called, and eased the bow down relative to the planet. River eyed the repeater gauges closely, saying nothing. Chelsa looked her way once, only to see her 'momma' sitting in silence.

"Nothing to say?" Chelsa asked, looking quickly back to her own instruments, and then out the screen.

"It's all on you," River said gravely. "I'm just a passenger, now." Chelsa didn't like the sound of that, but was far too busy to argue. The moon was getting very large in the window screen at that moment.

"Reducing speed," Chelsa said, easing back on the throttles. She had watched River do it countless times, sitting exactly where River was now. She could do this. She could do this. She could. . . .

"Port thruster heatin' up a bit," Holly informed her. "I've got it, but you may need to compensate to keep stable."

"What?" Chelsa was near panic.

"You do not have time to panic," River said remorselessly. "You are responsible for a ship and it's crew. You have a problem to deal with. Forget everything else but keeping this ship in the air, and landing it without damage or injury." Chelsa gaped, having expected River to jump in and take over.

"I told you, I am just a passenger. _You_ are the pilot. Everything hangs on you." River's tone was flat.

Chelsa quickly eased back on both thrusters, keeping the starboard thruster just at just a tad higher thrust than the port. Her gauges didn't indicate overheating, but Holly was right there. He would know.

"Rotating thrusters," Chelsa informed Holly.

"We're good for rotation," Holly affirmed. "Just watch that port thruster. It may buck on you." The girl flipped the controls, and the ship shuddered just slightly as _Companion_ begin to prepare for landing. Very, very soon, the pad at Guilford's was in view. And growing quickly.

"Slowing," Chelsa said to no one in particular. "Holly, will the thruster be okay to land?" she called.

"Should be," the engineer confirmed. "The flow is starting to even out. I think we hit something in transition, maybe a piece o' space trash. May be burnt off by now."

"Here we go then," Chelsa called. She slowed the ship to near stall speed, actually reaching a hover less than one hundred yards from the pad. Easing the ship over toward the pad, she carefully reduced thrust, losing altitude a little at the time. She glided as if on a string until she was right over the pad, and twenty meters off the ground. Reducing the thrust slowly, she settled the ship on the ground. The last five meters were all at one go, however, so the landing wasn't as picture perfect as it might have been.

Still. . . .

"Cheated death again," River smiled, using one of Jayne's own sayings. Chelsa wilted into her chair, the earlier joy she had felt at take-off no where in evidence.

"Well done," River told her, rising. Chelsa waved weakly.

"Thanks," was about all she could manage. Jayne came up just then.

"Girl wasn't up to it?" he asked. River looked at him.

"You was flyin' wasn't you?" he demanded. "That was a right smooth landing, 'cept for the last bit, and that was normal enough. I figured you had taken the helm."

"I did no such thing," River informed him. "Chelsa landed the ship unaided." Jayne's eyebrows shot up at that. He turned to his 'daughter' and smiled.

"Well, how 'bout that!" he exclaimed. He hugged the girl tightly.

"This here calls for a celebration, right enough," Jayne declared. "Let's everyone get squared away, cleaned up, and dressed up. We're goin' to town and get us somethin' to eat!"

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"What do you mean, 'test'?"

"Just that," River told the red faced girl. "I told Holly what to do, and he did it. Perfectly I might add," she smiled at the engineer. He smiled, shrugging.

"You mean all that time, all that way down, when I thought I was gonna _kill us all_, was _fake_!" Chelsa was almost yelling now.

"Not a fake," River said evenly. "A test. One you passed to perfection, I might add. I want you to have some more experience first, but I am confident that you could pass the pilot's exam now."

"What?" Chelsa's anger was forgotten suddenly. Her face showed nothing but shock.

"You cannot take the exam for at least another year," River told her. "Unless we can establish an excellent reason for getting your license early. Which is possible, since we live on a ship. We'll have to see, of course. In the meantime, you will assume more and more of the pilot's duties."

"And start standing a bridge watch," Jayne informed her. Chelsa's face fell a bit at that. Bridge duty in the black was. . ._boring_. Unless. . . .

"And no, Liam won't be standin' it with you," Jayne crushed that hope before it could even spread it's wings. "Boy's got his own duties, and his own watch. You want to be all grown up, you got to pull your weight. And if'n you_ don't_, you can forget that pilot's exam. _Dong ma?_"

"_Wo, dong_," Chelsa mumbled. "I'll do it, daddy," she added. Jayne almost cracked at that, but managed to hold firm. The girl was too much like River to allow her a lot of headway.

"I resent that," River said with a mock pout.

"Don't make it no less true," Jayne smirked.

"What?" Chelsa asked, confused.

"Grown up stuff," River told her, voice conspiratorial. "I might tell you later," she added with a wink. Chelsa was unaware of River's reader abilities. And no one other than Zoe and Goldie were aware that River and Jayne could communicate in silence. And she wanted it to stay that way.

"Here comes the food," Liam said, having wisely refrained from entering this conversation, less Chelsa think he was in on the 'test'. He hadn't been, but she could jump to a conclusion faster than a fox could kill a hen.

"Here's to Chelsa," Jayne said, hoisting his drink. Everyone joined in, and Chelsa beamed at that.

"And to safe journeys," River added, smiling at her daughter.

Ah, life was good, sometimes.


	10. Chapter 10

Sins of the Past – Chapter Ten

Author makes no money from his efforts. No copyright infringement intended. Perfectly okay not to sue him.

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"No, Chelsa, that's not right," Simon said again.

"What did I do wrong this time," the girl sighed.

"The splint has to be in just the right position before you inflate it," Simon told her with infinite patience. "Inflating it this way," he pointed to her work, "will cut off the circulation around the knee. If left that way long enough, it could cause damage, or even result in amputation."

"What? I could cause someone to lose their _leg_?" The horror in her voice was palpable. "No said anything about that!"

"I just did," Simon smirked. "And you can only cause it if you do it _wrong_. That's why it's important to do it correctly." They were working on a 'dummy', one that was used for teaching first aid and CPR. Thankfully.

"Try it again," Simon ordered.

"Uncle Simon, maybe I'm just not cut out to be a medic," Chelsa said mournfully. This had looked really attractive when she'd volunteered to be _Companion's_ medic.

"It's a matter of learning, Chelsa," Simon told her sternly. "No one is born knowing about anything. You have to learn. That's why you're here. To learn. I know this doesn't seem as glamorous as flying," he waved his hands to encompass the exam room they were in, "but life saving skills are just as important in the black as knowing how to fly."

"Okay." She dutifully broke down the splint and went back to work.

Simon watched her, saying nothing at this stage. When he'd first started training her, he had talked her through each stage of whatever exercise they were on. Not anymore. Now, she had to go through the entire thing, and only then would he critique her work.

He was careful to keep his features neutral as she worked, this time applying the air splint in the proper fashion. Once satisfied, she slowly added air until the splint was swollen to keep the 'leg' stable. Once she was finished, she stepped back, and looked up at her teacher.

"Much better," Simon smiled at her. "Much better. Now, tell me, in detail, how you approach an unconscious person, and what you would do to check them for injuries."

"Well, if it's someone I know, I call them by name. . . ."

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An hour later, Simon called a halt to the class. Chelsa was learning, despite a few setbacks.

"Don't forget the reading materials I gave you," he pointed to the disc on the cabinet. "And next time, there will be a test. A _written_ test, with no help. I suggest you study hard."

"Yes, Uncle Simon," Chelsa nodded. She hugged him, gathered her bag and the disc, and left. Sighing, Simon left the room behind her, walking to the waiting room. He was pleasantly surprised to see Kaylee coming through the door, in the process of hugging Chelsa. Watching the girl bound away, Kaylee came on inside.

"Hello, _ai ren_," Simon smiled, embracing her. Kaylee hugged back, then drew back to look at him.

"Simon, I think maybe we oughta talk."

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"What?"

"I said I'm late, Simon," Kaylee repeated, watching him closely.

"How late?" Simon asked, kicking into 'doctor' mode without thinking.

"Ain't had my monthly in the last two," Kaylee told him. "I wanna think I'm. . .well, I wanna make sure."

"Uh, yeah. Good idea," Simon stammered, his head swimming. "Let me see. . . ."

Twenty minutes later Simon was grinning like the proverbial donkey when he returned to the exam room where Kaylee was waiting.

"We're. . .we're gonna be parents!" he exclaimed, grabbing his wife in a fierce embrace. Kaylee squealed as he spun her around.

"Oh, Simon I was so hopin'. . . ." she sobbed. "I mean, wasn't no real way ta tell, ya know? I shoulda come in earlier, but I kept thinkin' I'd wait and see."

"Well, there's no doubt about it, now," Simon smiled at her. "And, I checked everything else it could be, as well. You're healthy, and everything's fine! I'd say you're about six weeks along."

"We're gonna be parents," Kaylee said dreamily, her voice wistful. She looked calm and peaceful for about thirty seconds. Until it hit her.

"_OMIGOD, SIMON WE'RE GONNA BE PARENTS!"_

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"Baby?" Mal looked stunned. Inara beamed, and hugged Kaylee tight. Her parents had already gushed and awwed over the couple. Now it was Mal and Inara's turn.

"That's wonderful news, _mei mei," _Inara exclaimed. "How far along are you?"

"Roughly six weeks," Simon answered that one, still smiling. His feet hadn't really connected with the dirt in nearly an hour.

"Well, that's great!" Mal told him, offering his hand to Simon, and a hug to Kaylee. "Wantin' a boy or a girl?"

"Boy," Kaylee replied.

"Girl," Simon said at the same time. Both frowned, and looked at each other.

"I thought you wanted a . . . ." Each said at the same time. Again.

"Well, looks like you two got some'at ta talk about," Mal grinned, pleased with himself. The couple glowered at him for an instant, then back at each other.

"Mal," Inara chided. "It doesn't matter what it is, so long as he or she is healthy. Don't forget that."

"True," Simon backed down first, though Kaylee's glare may have had something to do with that. "Speaking of which, we need to get back. There are some pre-natal vitamins you should be taking, _bao bei_. To help keep your strength up."

"Okay," Kaylee smiled. "See you two later," she smiled at Mal and Inara. Mal watched them go, then turned to Inara.

"Well, how 'bout that," he smiled in pleasure. "Lil' Kaylee's gonna be a momma."

"She'll be a wonderful mother," Inara stated.

"That she will," Mal agreed. "Wonder what this is gonna do to her business?"

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"What do you mean I can't keep workin'?" Kaylee demanded.

"I mean it's not good for you or the baby, Kaylee, to be around all those chemicals. And the heavy lifting you do is out of the question. You could very easily miscarry, trying to lift some of the parts you use."

"Simon, I can't not work," Kaylee informed him. "I can't leave Daddy alone out in the shop. This whole thing was my idea! It ain't right!"

"I'm sorry, Kaylee," Simon replied, sincerely. "But it's just too dangerous. The things you absorb through your skin could very well cause trouble for the baby, and for you. Your body chemistry will be changing quickly. It's just not a good idea."

"Simon," Kaylee said evenly. "I may not can do some things, but there's a ton of work I can do 'thout strainin' nothin', or gettin' no chemicals on me. And I can't just _quit_!"

"I'm not telling you to quit," Simon tried to reason with her. "But you are going to have to take some time off until the baby is born."

"That's _months_!" Kaylee exclaimed. "No, there has to be a compromise we can find. I can find a mechanic to help daddy, for now. But that means we won't have my pay no more," she warned. "I'll have to use it to pay the help."

"We can get by fine on what I get paid," Simon smiled. "And, once the baby is born, and you're able, there's no reason you can't go right back to twisting wrenches as much as you want."

"We'll have to see what we can work out."

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Kaylee and Simon visited _Companion_ next, giving their good news to Jayne and River. River made squeeing noises and embraced the woman she had come to love as a sister, while Jayne smirked at Simon, pumping his hand and slapping his back. As always, Simon mentally checked his spine for damage. Jayne really didn't realize his strength sometimes.

"Way to go, Simon," Jayne told him.

"Yes, well. . ." Simon blushed.

"Always the prude, dear brother," River snarked, hugging him tightly. "Congratulations to the both of you."

"Thanks, River!" Kaylee was almost gushing.

"Ya'll make good parents," Jayne nodded his own approval. "And prob'ly a pretty baby. Course if it takes after Simon it'll be snooty and uptight, but. . . ._oof_!" Jayne broke off as a well aimed elbow caught him in the stomach. He was grinning, though.

"Pay him no mind," River sniffed. "Babies are wonderful and beautiful, and. . .well, messy, and noisy, and. . .and. . .congratulations!" River ended, realizing she was making it worse. Simon and Kaylee just laughed at her discomfiture.

"Well, we wanted you to hear it from us," Kaylee smiled. "Now I got to go tell Daddy that I can't work no more until the baby's born, and gotta find someone to help him out 'til I can come back."

As they left, River sighed, watching them walk away, so happy.

"What's on that mind o' your'n," Jayne asked her, seeing the look in her eyes.

"What?" she jolted, looking up at him.

"I seen that look. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," River sighed again. "I'm very happy for Kaylee and Simon."

"But?" Jayne prompted. River smiled. He knew her too well.

"It would be nice if we could have a baby," she admitted. Jayne snorted.

"We done got one," he complained. "Still if ya want one, don't see no reason we can't. . .what?" He broke off seeing the look on River's face.

"We haven't had any success so far," she told him. Jayne frowned.

"You're on birth control," he pointed out. "Ain't no way. . .what now?" he asked, seeing a different look on her face.

"I haven't taken the shot in six months," she admitted sheepishly. "Don't be mad," she added, seeing his eyes narrow. "I. . .I wanted to try. To see. I don't think it's possible for me to conceive, my great bear. I think we shall be baby less." Jayne looked at her for a moment, then shrugged.

"Like I said before, just means I ain't gotta share." She smiled, and hugged him. He was so understanding. Most men would be. . .let down.

"I ain't let down," Jayne told her. She grinned into his chest. She had thought too hard, and he had 'heard' her.

"I know," she looked up at him. "But it is disappointing."

"Well, you never know what can happen," he said, sounding far too philosophical for Jayne Cobb. "We'll just have ta keep practicing." This was accompanied by a comical leer, which made River burst into giggles.

"So we shall," she agreed happily. "So we shall."

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Goldie and Zoe walked through Astra, mostly window shopping. They had had dinner with Gerry and Rebecca, who had gone to see a movie afterward. They weren't dating, so far as Zoe could tell, or sleeping together. It was more of a friendship.

And, so long as it didn't affect their work, was none of her business.

Zoe had thought long and hard about her position as Captain. She had nearly wrecked her relationship with Goldie before it had gotten off the ground, had nearly alienated Jayne to the point that they had lost him, as well. She had vowed to herself to do better, and she had. She had no intention of reversing that now.

"What's on your mind?" Goldie asked, jolting her from that review.

"Just thinkin' on how things has changed," she replied. "Some for the better, some for the worse."

"I'm for the better, though," Goldie grinned. Zoe didn't reply, but kept her stoic face looking forward.

"Um, Zoe?" Goldie prodded. "I'm for the better, right? Zoe? Baby? Sweetie? Honey?" Zoe finally lost her battle with the grin that had been threatening, and kissed Goldie lightly.

"Very much for the better, I guess," she sighed theatrically.

"That ain't funny," Goldie put on his 'hurt' face.

"Oh, yes it was," Zoe laughed. "And yes, you are a change for the much better, my handsome grease monkey," she kissed him again. "I was mostly thinkin' about me. How I've changed. And how the rest of us have since we came here."

"We pretty much stayed like we were when we were all crammed on _Serenity_. We didn't have much to look forward to except the next job. We ate canned protein, and mostly were glad to have it. We were constantly havin' to shoot our way outta scrape after scrape, usually with someone we were _supposed_ to have been able to trust, and do business with."

"Now, we're all different in a lot o' ways. I mean, Mal is the _gorram_ _Sheriff_ of all things! And Jayne's a _ship captain_. And so am I," she finished. "Kaylee has a business, Inara and Mal are planning on gettin' married, and Inara is openin' a school. Jayne and River are married, and got a near on full grown daughter. Just a lot o' things has changed."

"Well, that's all good changes aren't they?" Goldie asked. "I mean none of'em _sound_ bad."

"No, they aren't," Zoe admitted. "Mostly I guess I was reflecting on how I've changed. Especially since I took on so much responsibility. I didn't do so well at first, but I think I'm doing pretty good, nowadays. Least I hope I am," she added.

"I'd say you are," Goldie assured her. "I mean, you run Reynolds' Shipping pretty damn good, Zoe. You're a good ship captain, and a good boss. Everyone enjoys workin' for you, and you get the best out of'em." Zoe smiled at that, and kissed him again, lightly.

"Thanks, _bao bei_," she almost whispered. "I appreciate it."

The talk turned to lighter things as the two continued their walk. Zoe feeling much better.

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Friday rolled around right on time, Mal decided. He was tired, and hurting. He knew he had pushed himself too hard, trying to find some way to stop the monster in their midst.

Thankfully, there were no more bodies, at least for the moment. That meant no new clues, but Mal would rather never find the killer, than have to wait for another young woman to die a horrible death.

He informed Toby that he had been 'ordered' to take the weekend off. Toby smiled.

"Inara gonna make you rest this weekend, I guess," he smirked. "That's a good idea. You're not back to battery yet, boss. And you been pushin' hard. Truth is, had she not said somethin', I would have next week. You can't keep on like this. Gonna wind up back in the hospital." He lost his smile. "And that would leave me in charge. Which would mean I'd have to kill you."

"Ah, the loyalty around here is palpable," Mal grinned. Toby shook his head.

"We'll keep a good watch. Won't call ya less'n it's a sure 'nough emergency. Get some rest, enjoy your new home, and some quiet."

"Thanks Toby." Mal headed out to his car, and started for home. He was already almost out of town when he realized that home wasn't in his office anymore. Laughing at himself, he turned around. Minutes later he was sitting in the drive of his and Inara's new home. He studied the place for a few minutes. It was a large place, since Inara's school would be there as well. Two stories, with a full basement. He shook his head at the good fortune that had placed him in a position to afford such a place.

Between what his ships were making, and his salary as the Sheriff, he and Inara were doing quite well. Once her school got into motion, they'd be doing even better. He had seen some of the figures. It was amazing what folks with money would pay to have a former Companion teach their young ones the about the finer things.

Getting out of his car, Mal hobbled to the door. He was _very_ tired. He decided when he got inside he'd have one of the pain pills that Simon had given him. He didn't take them too often, but today would be one of those times. The door opened before he could get to it.

"Welcome home, sailor," Inara beamed. She stepped back, bowing slightly, waving Mal into the house. He laughed lightly, walking in.

It was still a bit bare, of course, but it was very nice. Inara's touch was visible everywhere he looked.

"We're gonna need some furniture," he noted, and Inara nodded.

"I'm planning on going with Jayne and River on their next run. I have a list of things I need to get the house finished, and to get the gate house prepared. There will be more than enough room on the _Companion_ to bring everything back when we come."

"How much all that gonna cost?" Mal asked. He would always be the Captain, Inara realized. Used to balancing their needs against what they could have.

"Mal, let me worry about that," Inara soothed. "We're in very good shape, financially, since I don't have to give up everything to the Guild. We can live very comfortably on your salary alone. I am making a loan from the shipping funds to pay for the school's start up. The loan will be repaid, with interest, from the proceeds of the school. Tax deductible for the school, and investment venture for the shipping firm. All very legal," she added at his frown. "I've spoken to a very good accountant here in town."

"Okay," Mal shrugged. He was too tired, really, to worry over it.

"Now," Inara told him firmly. "You take this," she handed him the very pain pill he wanted. "And this," she offered him a small glass. "Simon said it won't hurt," she added. Mal took the drink and turned it up.

"Wow," he shuddered. "That's pretty good."

"You can have one more like that," Inara smiled. "But you'll have it on the back porch." She led him through the house to the back veranda. He saw the furniture there, and smiled. Two rocking chairs, a matching table, and a swing.

"This is our private little hideaway," Inara told him. "Now, have a seat, and rest. I'll have supper out here in a few minutes." There was a picture of ice water on the table, with two glasses. Mal sat down, opting for the water rather than another whiskey. As he leaned back, sipping the water, he kicked his boots off, and sighed with pleasure.

Yep, this was nice. He could get used. . . .

Inara had to wake him when supper was ready.

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Mal slept very late on Saturday, and Inara let him. She went about her daily chores quietly, and had disconnected the phone and cortex receiver in their suite. She had both installed in the sitting room that was adjacent to their large bedroom, knowing that Mal would always be getting calls late at night, at least so long as he was Sheriff.

She also knew that he would need a quiet place to work, once her school was opened. For that reason, the smaller bedroom on the upper floor had been converted into an office. She would keep their important papers and files there for Reynolds' Shipping, and he could keep his 'Sheriffy' things there as well. School records would be kept in her own office, downstairs.

All in all, Inara was very pleased with the house, and the grounds. It was far too big, of course, had it just been the two of them. But with the school, the extra room would be needed.

The doorbell rang, and Inara looked at the clock. That should be Mrs. Blalock, one of the women interested in working at the school. She needed someone to cook for the students, and to live in the gatehouse with the domiciled students who would bunk there.

"Yes?" Inara smiled, as she opened the door.

"Miss Serra?" the woman at the door asked. She was a little taller than Inara, and heavier, but not overly so. She had a kind but stern face, and looked very much like a woman who would not take a great deal of back talk.

"Yes," Inara replied. "Are you Mrs. Blalock?"

"That I am," the woman smiled. "I'm here about the job?"

"Please come in," Inara opened the door wider, and waved the woman into the house. Mrs. Blalock entered, looking around at the house. She whistled softly.

"I like what you did with the old place," she nodded approvingly. "I was afraid it would set here and go to seed."

"Well, I have no intention of allowing that to happen," Inara assured her. "I loved this place the moment I saw it."

"Think you and I'll get along," the older woman smiled. "I used to live here, when I was a girl. Anyone who takes care o' this place is all right in my book."

"You did?" Inara was surprised.

"My ma was the elder Mrs. Brown's cook and housekeeper," Blalock told her. "I grew up here. Livin' in the gatehouse, in fact," she added.

"Well, that's wonderful!" Inara said, genuinely surprised. "It must have been nice, having all this ground!"

"It was at that," Blalock nodded. "Forgive me rattlin' on like that. I'm here to interview for a job, not hash over old times."

"Not at all," Inara assured her. "And, I think your connection to the place adds to your application. Tell me, what do you think of my idea to have a finishing school here?"

"Well, I think the school is a fine thing," the woman frowned. "It's just too bad that folks don't take time to teach their own kids, these days."

"Well, I can understand that," Inara smiled. "But, there will be more to the school than manners and graces," she added, leading the woman into her office. "I took the time to see what the local school systems offer in the way of the arts. Their curriculum isn't bad, but there is a lack of opportunity to study art, and a limited interest in teaching music. Also art and music history. I want to be able to offer the students those opportunities as well."

"I like that idea," Blalock nodded.

"Well, we aren't an accredited learning institution of course," Inara went on. "The main focus of the school, and the thing that most parents are interested in, is preparing the children that will be going to study off world for the differences between here and the coreward worlds. I think I can do that nicely."

"I 'spect so," Blalock nodded. "Can't just let young'uns loose on the 'verse these days 'thout no preparation. What would you be 'spectin' o' me, was I to be hired?"

"Well, first of all. . . ."

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"I see no reason to interview anyone else," Inara smiled as she and Mrs. Blalock finished speaking. The woman was ideal. "As far as I'm concerned, if you want the job, you have it."

"I do want it," Blalock told her. "I do have one question. Well, two, before I accept."

"Fire away," Inara smiled.

"First off, I need to know how stable this position is. I can't give up a steady job, even for a better one, without knowing that I'm going to have stable employment. If the school doesn't pan out, will I be let go? Or will you keep me on as a cook and maid, like my ma was? And let me continue to live in the gatehouse?"

Inara was surprised by the question. She hadn't even considered that the school might not work. And if it didn't, would she need Mrs. Blalock? If the school didn't work out, what would she do? She had thought about opening a dress shop. She could always do that. And, she thought, if she did, then having Mrs. Blalock would come in handy.

"I don't expect the school to fail," Inara told her plainly. "But, should the worst happen, then yes. I think I would be delighted to keep you on as our housekeeper and cook. And of course, you can stay in the gate house."

"Thank you," Blalock smiled.

"And the other question?" Inara asked. Mrs. Blalock fidgeted a bit, looking uncomfortable.

"I don't mean to pry," she said quietly, "but, well, your livin' arrangement with the Sheriff is pretty much common knowledge, Miss Serra. I want to know, will that be changin'? To a more. . .well, conventional relationship? Not that it's my business," the woman added hurriedly, "but it's. . .well, it's uncomfortable to me. To my beliefs. I'm not passin' judgement in no way," she explained. "It's for my own peace o' mind."

"I. . .see," Inara said slowly. She was stalling, allowing her not to lose her temper. The initial question had angered her. After hearing the woman out, Inara decided it was a fair question, so far as Mrs. Blalock's own beliefs were concerned.

"I assume you know the events of the past year?" Inara opted for an opening. Blalock nodded.

"Then I will tell you that the Sheriff and I have been together for quite some time," Inara spoke slowly and deliberately. "In fact, if you'll look at my finger," Inara held up her hand, "you'll see an engagement ring. The Sheriff asked me, before he was injured so severely, to be his wife. Something I have been in all but name for quite some time. Before, when we lived on ship, things were different. So long as we honored our commitment to each other, neither of us were concerned with 'conventions'."

"After coming here, however," the elegant former Companion continued, "we discovered an opportunity to have more from life than just living aboard ship. We saw the chance to have a home of our own, to put down roots, and have a stable environment in which to actually raise a family."

"That opportunity made us re-evaluate our 'relationship', as you put it. We decided that the chance was there for the taking, and we were going to take it. But before we could actually have the wedding, the Sheriff was injured, and nearly killed. He is still recovering. When he has recovered, I intend for us to be wed here. On the grounds. I wanted the perfect place, and for me, this is it. Does that answer your question?" Blalock sat quietly, flushing slightly. She nodded finally.

"It does, miss. And I'm sorry if I offended. As I said, there was no judgement intended. It was for my own beliefs that I asked, and nothing more. You'll find that I'm not a judgmental person. I live my life, and let others live theirs. I asked only because it would be uncomfortable for me. I hope you understand."

"Actually, I think I do," Inara smiled. "And, so long as this is the only time I have to answer you about my personal life, then I'm prepared to leave it at that, and offer you the job. Do we have an agreement?" Blalock didn't miss the steel in Inara's voice, and her impression of the smaller, younger woman went up a notch.

"We do indeed, Miss Serra," she smiled. "I think I'd be a fool not to take it. I look forward to working for you."


	11. Chapter 11

Sins of the Past – Chapter Eleven

Writer owns no part of Firefly, and intends no infringement. He writes only to torment others. . .wait, that doesn't sound right. . . . .

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Toby Bontrager knew despair.

It was after midnight, Saturday, when his phone had rung. Dreading to answer, he knew he had no choice.

"Toby," Blade's voice came through the ear piece. "I'm sorry to wake you, but we have another body." The former merc's voice was strained. Toby knew that this was eating at all of them.

"Where?" was all he said. He quickly wrote down the place, and was soon dressed and on his way to the scene. He had briefly entertained the idea of calling Mal, but discarded it. Anything that needed doing could be done without his presence. And he needed rest.

When he arrived at the scene some forty five minutes after getting the call, the coroner's van was already there, as was the vehicle assigned to the two Marshals. Toby eased up to the scene, where he could see Reeves and Bonds working over the site.

"Anything?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"Not a single thing," Bonds sounded dejected. He, too, was tired of striking out. "I can't believe that this guy doesn't make at least one mistake every now and then."

"I know," Toby sighed. "We know the victim?"

"I don't," Bonds shrugged. "But I know very few people here. We've already worked the scene, if you want to take a look. Like I said, clean as a pin." He looked at Toby. "I used to think I was pretty good at my job, you know."

"I know," Toby found himself feeling sorry for the young man in a way. A kindred spirit, he supposed. Toby had used to think the same thing, after all. Before this.

"It's not just you, kid," he told the frustrated Marshal as he walked over to where the body lay. "We all used to. . . ." Toby broke off, looking down at the victim.

Her face, like the others, was a mask of terror and pain. Small, fine boned, long brown hair. She was almost identical to the other three. Except for one small difference.

Toby recognized this one.

"Oh my God."

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"Inara, I know he's tired," Toby sighed. "And I didn't call him when the call first came in. But this. . .this is different. I have _got_ to talk to him. Now. Before the lid blows off."

"This had better be important, Toby," Inara threatened.

"You got no idea," Toby nodded. Inara led him into the study, and went upstairs to get Mal. He was down in less than five minutes, looking drowsy still.

"Mal, I'm sorry," Toby said first. Mal held up a hand.

"No need. Just tell me what happened."

"We found another body. Only this time, we know who it is."

"Oh?" Mal's eyebrows rose.

"Charles Whitham's daughter, Denise."

"Whitham. . .Whitham. Why do I know that name?" Mal asked, frowning in concentration.

"He's one o' the richest man in the parish. Is the biggest land owner and rancher. And she was his only child."

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"She. . .she was supposed to be in _Mount Talmidge!_" Charles Whitham almost shouted. He and his wife were still in their night clothes, having been awakened by Mal and Toby with the bad news of what they had found.

"When did she leave, Mr. Whitham?" Toby asked gently. "If we can trace her route, we may can find a clue to what. . .how it happened."

"She left on Tuesday," Emalee Whitham almost whispered. She was nearly in shock from the looks of her. Her husband wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "She was planning to stay until the end of next week there, visiting friends and shopping. She was going off world to school in the fall." She looked at Mal. "Your fiancee was going to be instructing her before hand." Mal felt his eyes water slightly at the woman's pain.

"I. . .I'm so sorry, ma'am," he told her.

"Can you provide us with a list of names of the friends she was going to see?" Toby asked, trying to stay on track. He didn't think either one was going to last much longer, and they needed information.

"You suspect her _friends_?" Charles Whitham's face went beet red.

"Not at all," Toby replied calmly. "But we need to check with them, to see who saw her last, or heard from her last. We use that to try and determine where, and when, her attacker managed to take her. Then we use

_that_ information to try and get a description of the man."

"Once we have that," Mal added, "then we find him, and we stop him. We punish him for what he did."

"You've done so well at that so far!" Whitham snarled. Emalee placed a hand on his.

"Charles, it isn't their fault. She wasn't attacked here, was she?" this was for Toby.

"It's unlikely ma'am," Toby admitted. "If she left Tuesday, and she made contact with any of her friends in Mount Talmidge, then we'll know she made it that far. Which will mean. . . ."

"We know she made it," Charles offered, realizing the truth of what his wife was saying. "She called us when she arrived. To let us know she made it s. . .safe." He almost strangled on the word.

"Do you know where she was staying?" Toby asked.

"She had taken a room at a motel there," Emalee replied, rising from her seat. She walked to a desk, and wrote on a notepad. Tearing off the sheet, she brought it to the investigator.

"This is her phone number there, and the name of the motel. It's one of the nicest places in the city," she added absently. Toby accepted the page without comment.

"If you can get us the names of the people she planned to visit, we can turn all this over to the two Marshals who are assisting us here, and let them get started on this." The next few minutes resulted in the list, but precious little else. It was still more than they had had.

Finally, Mal and Toby rose to leave. As they reached the door, Whitham took Mal's shoulder.

"I know this isn't your fault, Sheriff," he said quietly. "But I want this man found. I'd like him dead, but I can't ask that of you. What I really want is for him to hurt, just like my little girl did."

"I want that too, sir," Mal surprised the man. "I got family. I know what it is to lose them. And, between us, should the chance arise, I'll make sure it happens." Whitham searched Mal's eyes for a moment, then nodded, apparently satisfied with what he saw there.

"I think you will," was all he said, and closed the door.

"You hadn't ought to promise that, Mal," Toby suggested as they walked to the car.

"Why not?" Mal challenged. "It's the truth."

"Might get you in trouble," Toby warned.

"Couldn't care less at the moment."

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"We'll be on our way in an hour," Bonds told Mal, taking the information the two men provided. "I've already called the office, and they have men on the way to the motel, to secure the room. And a BOLO has been issued for the car." He was quiet for a minute.

"I know this is bad, for you and your town. But this may just let us find this son of a. . .this man. I know it's not much, but I hope it helps."

"You find him, and then we'll see," Mal nodded. "Good luck."

Mal and Toby watched the two of them leave, then walked into the office. Mal let out a long sigh.

"I hope they nail the bastard."

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_He didn't panic. He was too controlled for that. But he did berate himself._

_Stupid, stupid, STUPID! his mind screamed, belying his calm outward appearance. I should have checked her more thoroughly. I should have known where she was from. I could have waited, left her for last, when I was leaving. Next to last, he amended. He would leave the _perfect_ canvas until last. The one that looked so much like _her_._

_What to do now? Should he leave? How much information could they gather from her? Who might have seen him with her? Might identify him? Point him out if he was taken into custody? _

_There was no physical evidence. His field work was perfect, he knew. Long practice gave him that confidence. But a witness, that was more damning than any physical evidence. And how could he explain being there, in Mount Talmidge? Especially when it was discovered that he was living in the same area where all the victims had turned up? And where the latest victim had hailed from?_

_He sat back, and closed his eyes. Sifting through his memory of the night he had taken the canvas, he looked for anything that might come back on him. He had a perfect memory. Picture perfect. He could recall anything he had ever seen, with a little meditation._

_Yes, people had seen him with her. At a club. But she had been with others at that same club. And so had he. Odds were that no one would remember him. She had blown him off. Like they always did. Like _she_ had, so long ago. Ridiculed him for even having the nerve to talk to her._

_He felt the familiar rush of anger at that. _She_ had talked down to him, made him feel small. He grinned ferally as he recalled her suffering. His first 'love'. His first work of art. _

_He had been clumsy then. Angry. Working in a state of fury. He was better than that now. Wiser. Stronger. More experienced. He opened his eyes, finally, satisfied. Yes, he had made an error. A stupid one, at that. He would punish himself for that, later. _

_But he could find no reason to think that the canvas would lead the police to him in any way. He was safe._

_He could continue his work for a while longer._

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"I didn't expect you back," Inara said as Mal walked into the house.

"No reason for me to stay any longer," Mal shrugged. "The Marshal's are workin' the case in Mount Talmidge. Outta our baliwick. The girl's from here, and her body left here to be found, but the actual crime was probably committed elsewhere. We know she was took elsewhere. Nothin' for us to do at the moment."

"I'm sorry," Inara said softly.

"Me too," Mal sighed, taking his boots off. Inara had a rack near the door, and he set the boots there. "Hated tellin' the family. Got a little intense at first." He looked at Inara then.

"The girl was gonna be one o' your students, _bao bei_," he informed her softly. Inara gasped at that, her hand rising to her mouth.

"Who was she?" Inara asked, almost against her will.

"Girl name o' Denise Whitham."

"Oh, no!" Inara wailed softly. "Oh, Mal! She was an adorable child! So very smart and talented."

"I'm sorry, Inara," Mal took her into his arms, and Inara sobbed briefly, before managing to gain control of herself again. She wiped her eyes.

"Well, let's get you some breakfast, shall we?" she tried to smile.

"Not hungry at the moment," Mal admitted. "Are you?

"Not so much, now," she admitted.

"Let's us go lie down a while, then," Mal suggested. "I admit I'm tired. I might manage to go back to sleep."

The two of them went upstairs in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

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"Another one," River sighed, shaking her head.

"Not just another one, 'ccordin' to what everbody's sayin'," Kaylee mourned. "This one was a local. Well known, too." The two were sitting in the cargo bay of _Companion_, Kaylee having walked down to visit with her sister-in-law, and share the news. Neither missed the fact that Jayne was hovering nearby, just out of ear shot, outside the open bay door. It was a sign of the times, anymore.

"I hope this is the last one," River said softly. "I don't know how much more people can accept."

"Everbody's so _scared_, River," Kaylee replied. "And they was already afraid, even when the bodies turnin' up wasn't nobody they knowed. Now it's like. . .ten times worse."

"Yes," River nodded. "Fear is apparently the killer's objective. He is hiding among us, I think, watching the reaction to what he does. I wonder," she mused, "does he gain more satisfaction from the act itself, or the resulting fear and uncertainty the act causes."

"You're scarin' me, River," Kaylee frowned in concern. "You ain't talked like that in a long time."

"Like what?" River looked at her, puzzled.

"Like in the old days," Kaylee replied. "Like you did before. . .before."

"Before Miranda? Of before Jayne?" River asked, genuinely interested in Kaylee's answer.

"Jayne, I guess," Kaylee shrugged. "I mean, you was near bibbledy 'fore Miranda. You don't sound like that. You just sound more like you did 'fore you and Jayne, I reckon. Like a machine, or somethin'."

"Possible," River nodded. "I admit, in recent months I have been more at ease. So much has happened in such a short time, I am sometimes amazed it has not overwhelmed me entirely. There was a time, even after Miranda, when I'm sure it would have. The only thing I can conceive of is that the stable life we have here has given me a more reliable emotional foundation, which has, in turn, allowed me to progress in a manner I would never have achieved were we still aboard ship."

"You're doin' it again," Kaylee didn't quite whine. "Talkin' like some cortex docu-vid than like a person." River smiled.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "Sometimes I do rattle on. More so when I'm nervous."

"What you nervous 'bout?" Kaylee asked, looking concerned.

"I'm concerned about many things," River shrugged. "Captain Daddy faces a terrible problem, one that may yet set the populace against him, despite his accomplishments to date in office. Jayne and Goldie are both very. . ._focused_ on this problem, with fear for all of us. The women in our little family."

"Inara has lost a student. Captain Daddy's 'relationship' with Inara has been called into question, again, despite the fact that they would have already been married if not for the injuries he suffered in breaking the Nine. So soon they forget," River ended in a murmur, looking outside, at the sky.

"River," Kaylee said slowly. "Are you okay?" River looked back to her friend.

"Are any of us?"

"Well, I reckon I am," Kaylee shrugged. "I mean, I'm worried just like everbody else is. But I can't do nothin' 'bout what's happenin', so all I can do is hope Cap'n can sort it out. Him an' the others. And I gotta think about my baby, too," she added, rubbing her still flat tummy.

"True," River mused. "You cannot act in this. There are few who can, I suspect. The killer is taking his victims in an unknown fashion. So far at unknown times and places, though that may change with the latest victim being known. None of the others have even been identified. At least not that we've heard. But the _idea_ that _anyone_ could be the next victim, at any time, is enough to terrify most of the populace. And I believe that is the _true_ intent of the killer, in the long run." She looked at Kaylee again.

"True, he no doubt receives some satisfaction in the act of tormenting his victims. Else why do it? It is likely that he is re-living some past event, perhaps striking out at perceived past wrongs through surrogates. His victims represent the person who wronged him, most likely a spurned love, unrequited, and likely with no small amount of derision or humiliation."

"He is seeking revenge for past wrongs by taking victims that closely resemble his original tormentor. At the same time," she continued, "he is reveling in the fact that he, someone that no one notices, is the cause of so much fear and apprehension. Everyone on edge around him, while he enjoys knowing that he is the source of their fear."

"Wow," Kaylee said, as River went silent. "You just came up with all that sittin' here, lookin' at the sky?" River shrugged.

"Work has been a little slow." Both women laughed at that. Kaylee especially needed it, after River's little display.

"So you gonna tell the Cap'n 'bout all this?" she asked.

"Yes," River nodded. "Perhaps it will help, perhaps not. But it is something that merits closer investigation. It may not help catch him, but it can at least point to a motive. Anything is more than nothing. Which is all they have at the moment."

"That an' four dead girls," Kaylee sighed.

"That we know of," River agreed. "I fear there may be others, still undiscovered. And I fear there will be many more, if no one can catch him."

"Oh, River, don't even think it!" Kaylee almost wailed. "Somethin's gotta happen, so's they can catch him!"

"It doesn't have to," River shook her head. "Most serial killers leave clues to point the way to themselves. Most of them actually _want_ to be caught. This one, however, is different. He is careful, meticulous even. In every detail. I suspect that he has done this in many places before. He has learned his craft well."

"You make is sound like a job," Kaylee looked disgusted.

"He may see it as his 'work' yes," River nodded. "Might even refer to what he does in such a way. Because we can't see it, Kaylee, does not mean that he can't. To put it better, while _we_ can see his insanity, he is perhaps unaware of it. When I was at my worst, when none of you could understand me, everything I did or said sounded completely correct in my mind. To _me_ I was speaking and communicating clearly."

"But all you heard was gibberish. Words substituted, parallels, even parable's. It was extremely frustrating for me, knowing that I knew _exactly _what I wanted to say, and how I wanted it said, and yet I could _not_ transfer my thoughts into speech in such a way as to be understood."

"You can't imagine how frustrating that is," she finished. Kaylee looked sad.

"'m sorry, River," she told her sister-in-law. "I wish I coulda been more help to ya back then." River smiled brightly.

"Oh, but you_ were_! You were my friend, even when I scared you! Never thought so badly of me, no matter what I did. In fact," she smiled, "I think the only time you were really angry with me was when I slashed Jayne." Kaylee laughed at that.

"Well, maybe I was," she allowed.

"That's all right," River laughed. "I think we can lay that aside. Since I got him in the end," she wiggled her eyebrows conspiratorially. Kaylee almost shrieked in laughter at that one, holding her sides.

"So you was flirtin'?" she asked between 'bouts of laughter.

"He understands violence better than anyone," River grinned. "Or any_thing_ for that matter."

"Hey, ain't it about lunch time?" Jayne chose that moment to saunter over.

"Except food, of course," River added drily.

Jayne wondered what was so damn funny, as Kaylee fly into another fit of howling laughter. His wife just smiled at him, rising to fix lunch for them all.


	12. Chapter 12

Sins of the Past – Chapter Twelve

Writer owns no part of Firefly, and intends no infringement. He writes only to torment others. . .wait, that doesn't sound right. . . . .

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Hiram Bonds and Isabel Reeves reviewed what the had learned in Mount Talmidge. It didn't take long.

It doesn't take long to look over nothing.

"I don't believe this," Reeves shook her head. "I mean, how can all these people not see _anything_?"

"They weren't looking," Bonds said reasonably. "There's no reason to be looking for anyone. They're out, having a good time, not looking for creepy serial killer types."

"How can people be so unobservant, though?" Reeves wondered, disgusted. "I mean, how can anyone be so unaware of their surroundings?"

"They weren't looking for a killer, Iz," Bonds sighed, growing tired of her whining. He had matured a great deal in the weeks they had been working for Reynolds. Reeves hadn't so much.

"I'm _always_ aware of my surroundings," Reeves pronounced. "Always. I do not intend to be taken unaware."

"You're a _cop_ Isabel," Hiram was getting testy now. "You're paid, and _trained_ to be aware of your surroundings. They are just normal, working class people who, rightfully in my opinion, believe that as taxpayers they pay people like _us_ to be aware _for_ them. We're supposed to be protecting them from people like this."

"Well, they have to help us a little," Reeves snorted. "We can't be everywhere at once."

"Very true," Bonds nodded. "We've got to start being more pro-active in this."

"What do you mean?" Reeves asked.

"We can't keep waiting for him to strike," Bonds shrugged. "We've got to get out and start looking for him. There has to be something we're overlooking in all this."

"We've been over it how many times?" Reeves demanded. "Surely if there was something there to find, some of us would have seen it."

"We haven't," Bonds shrugged. "And, despite news coverage, apparently no one is looking very hard, either. Witness our latest failure to connect anyone to the Whitham girl. I agree with you that some one had to have seen something useful. But they didn't know they were, and simply forgot it, or shrugged it off. Simple as that."

"We need more manpower. People that can blend in at places like this club, and be more observant. That's all."

"There isn't enough manpower in the entire service for that," Reeves mused. "But, you might be on to something. We _do_ need to be more proactive." Reeves didn't say so, but she wanted to solve this case very badly. The investigator who could nail this creep would get a boatload of attention. Something like that was a career maker. Promotions almost guaranteed, good postings, and even 'markers' for future use. Reeves craved that kind of 'inside' status within the Service. Bonds didn't.

She liked Hiram, he was a good partner. They had worked together for three years or more, and had always had a good working relationship. But she was much more ambitious than he was. Bonds' ambition had been realized the day he'd been sworn into the Service. Her's had started then.

"You just said we don't have the manpower," Bonds sighed, breaking into her thoughts. "So what are you talking about?"

"We need bait," she shrugged. "We need a decoy to flush this guy out. Trap him." The agent who offered herself as bait would be seen as heroine.

"What?" Bonds nearly shouted. "We can't do that! It's too dangerous! What if something went wrong?"

"You said it yourself, we're supposed to be protecting the people," she shrugged. "We have to start with something. And, like you said, nothing else is working." She would have to convince him that this was the right idea. It would take both of them to sell it to their boss.

"You forget he's after a very precise type of woman," Bonds reminded her. "Do we even have someone like that in the. . . ." He trailed off as Reeves let her pony tail down, removed her glasses, and stood up.

"You?" Bonds asked. Then he looked at her. Reeves was a bit more muscular than the others, but that might just make her more attractive. She _did_ fit the victim's profile, he had to admit. But. . . .

"Forget it," he waved at her. "One, it's too dangerous. Two, there's no way the boss will go for it. He's still pissed at us as it is. Three, did I mention it's too dangerous?"

"We have to try," Reeves canted her voice just so. "I'm tired of finding these dead girls, Hiram," she added, allowing her face to fall a bit. She hated misleading him like this. Despite their differences, she counted Hiram Bonds as a friend. A real friend, the kind she had very few of. She assuaged her guilt by promising herself that she'd make sure his career was a good one, once she was established in the Marshal's hierarchy.

"So am I," Bonds shot back. "That doesn't mean your idea is a good one, though."

"It's the best we've got right now, and you know it," Reeves sat back down. "Look at all this," she waved to encompass no telling how many pounds of paperwork and discs. "There not a single thing we've found in all of this that will help us find the killer. Period. We have to smoke him out by offering him something he wants."

"You?" Bonds didn't snort.

"Someone _like_ me, yes," Reeves replied. "It's nothing to do with me, Hiram. It's just someone with my looks. My build, my hair, my height. I fit the profile. And it's our case, such as it is," she shrugged.

Bonds grew silent, and Reeves let him stew. She'd said all the right things, so all she could do now was hope he came to the conclusion she wanted. If he didn't, then she'd wait. A few more victims with no leads, and he'd fall into line. Satisfied that the idea had been planted, she went back to work. Maybe there w_as _something in all this data that they'd missed.

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Mal walked into the Sheriff's office, having been out to speak to a rancher who had lost cows over the weekend. Yes, the rancher knew there was a killer on the loose. Yes, he understood that something of that nature required a lot of manpower. No, he _didn't_ understand why they couldn't protect his cattle in between the times they were looking for the killer. He paid taxes too, you know.

Mal sighed as he recalled all that. Oh, and the final 'I vote, you know. Mayhap I need to give my vote to someone else, next election.' Mal had told him that was his right, and he should do what he thought best.

Shaking his head, Mal walked into the office. He hated to be inside. It was a beautiful Friday afternoon. He thought that being out and about did him a world of good. Maybe it was the sunshine.

His day turned ugly before he could get the door closed.

"Well, it's about time!" Margaret Triple announced, her voice betraying her indignance at being kept waiting by the Sheriff.

"Commissioner Triple, always nice to see you," Mal smiled, being overly friendly, which he knew she hated.

"Don't be familiar with me, Sheriff," the woman snorted. "I'm not a member of your little fan club."

"Wasn't aware I had a fan club," Mal told her, affecting a puzzled look. "I ain't got no fan mail, have I Evelyn?" he asked the secretary.

"No, Sheriff," Evelyn almost giggled, but caught it in time.

"Didn't think so," Mal nodded. "What is it I can do you for, Commissioner?"

"I demand to know what is being done about Denise Whitham, and finding her killer!"

"Ma'am, Denise Whitham was killed over to Mount Talmidge, as far as we can tell. There's nothin' I can do over there. Way outta my jurisdiction. The Marshal's Service sent the two agents that have been assisting us on the case over there to co-ordinate with the Mount Talmidge Police. I don't know what their investigation has revealed today, but so far the updates they've sent me haven't indicated a lead in the investigation as yet."

"And meanwhile you just sit here!" Triple almost screeched.

"What would you like me to do, ma'am?" Mal asked.

"Your _job!_" Triple did screech that time. "You haven't even identified the bodies of those other women!"

"No one else has either, ma'am," Mal told her. "We're doing, we've _done_ all that we can in that respect. As to my job, I am doing my job. There are a few other crimes in the parish, and I'm trying to work on those as well. Additionally, we're keeping up our patrols."

"And, we've passed the word throughout the parish to be alert for any strangers, suspicious activity, or odd circumstances. The outlying ranches are checking in three times a day with this office so we can be sure things are well with them, and we've stepped up patrols in the more populated areas with our men working twelve hour shifts instead of eight."

"And yet you have _nothing_ to show for it!" Triple shot back.

"I'm 'fraid that's true at the moment," Mal shrugged. "We're doin' all we can, ma'am."

"Well, it isn't enough!" Triple puffed up like an adder. "I demand your resignation, Sheriff Reynolds. We've had enough of your ineptitude. It's time we had some real law enforcement in this parish. Someone smarter, and with better morals. Someone who knows what's _important_ to our people!"

The office was very quiet for a moment. Several officers who had been in the act of preparing reports, getting ready for their shift, or other duties, had ventured into the lobby to see what the commotion was about. Toby Bontrager was among them.

"And who is it that you'll get to replace him?" Toby asked, before Mal could respond.

"I think you can do the job until we have a special election," Triple waved that away.

"I'll be resigning when he does," Toby informed her, pointing at Mal. The other officers in the room nodded in agreement. Mal didn't react, but he was proud to see that. His men were standing behind him.

"I will too," Evelyn stood, her voice shaking with anger. "See, _ma'am_, some of us remember what things were like when Grippen held this office. His actions shamed us all. Since Sheriff Reynolds took office, we can hold our heads up again, and be proud that we work here."

"And you got _no right_ to waltz in here makin' demands of him or anyone else, commissioner or no. I think when the story about how you acted here today gets out, it might just be _you_ that has to resign." Triple looked as if she had bitten into something bitter.

"Go on back to work," Mal ordered everyone gently. "All o' you," he winked at Evelyn where Triple couldn't see it. The young woman flushed, and returned to her seat. Mal turned hard eyes on Triple.

"Get out," he ordered, his voice low, and vibrant with anger. "You want to come here again, make an appointment." With that, he turned and walked away, heading to the back of the building. Triple, looking as if she'd been pole-axed, stumbled out into the sun without another word.

Mal slowly let the air in his lungs slip out, allowing his anger to do so as well. It was something Inara had taught him. He was glad he'd taken the time, for once, to listen to her. It helped him now.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff," Evelyn said demurely as Mal walked back toward his office. Mal stopped short.

"For what?"

"For interrupting," the girl replied. "I shoulda been quiet."

"That's for you to decide, darlin'," Mal smiled. "I depend on you too much to try and make you anything but what ya are. You got somethin' ta say, then you say it. _Dong ma?_" She smiled brightly.

"Thank you, Sheriff."

"No, I think it's me should be sayin' that," Mal shook his head. "To you, and everyone else. For sticking up for me, standing behind me, and o' course, puttin' up with me," he winked. Evelyn giggled.

"You ain't so bad," she waved him away.

"Now let's us just keep that 'tween ourselves."

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"I'm sorry about that trouble you had with Marge, Malcolm," Braz said later during a Wave. "She had no business, or right, to storm in there demanding your resignation."

"It ain't your fault, I reckon," Mal shrugged. "No need to apologize."

"She's one of those kinds of people," Braz sighed. "What got her elected, mostly. Most of the people in her district feel the same way. Holier than thou, and all that. She's stuck on the fact that you and Inara aren't 'properly married' and 'living in sin'."

"I'm gettin' right tired o' hearin' about that," Mal warned, his voice lowering. "We'd already be married, most like, had I not nearly been blowed to my maker."

"So when are you two going to tie the proverbial knot?" Braz asked. "I expect to be on the guest list, of course," he added, smiling.

"I imagine you can depend on that," Mal managed to smile. "Inara wants us to be married at the house we bought. She wants to wait, though, until she has it like she wants. I think it won't be long, really. She's aimin' to fly over to Astra with Jayne and River on their next run, and bring back all the foo foo's she want's for the house then. I imagine after I pay for that, I'll be in the poor house," he grumped good naturedly.

"Surely not," Braz smiled. "Well, again, I'm sorry that happened. Harm and I intend to speak to her about it, probably tomorrow."

"Don't do it on my account," Mal told him. "I can take care o' myself."

"It isn't entirely about you," Braz shook his head. "There's a hierarchy to the commission, and she's at the bottom. She needs to learn that, and sooner rather than later, to our mind. She wields power in her own district, but that's all. There are ten districts in this parish, all of them equal. She has no more say than any other individual commissioner. And she has no allies on the commission itself. Time for her to shut up."

"Well, so long as it's your turf war, and not mine," Mal grinned. "I got enough trouble as it is."

"So you do, Mal. And with that said, I'll get out of your hair. Take care, and good luck."

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"Of course you can accompany us," River rolled her eyes. "Such a stupid question."

"Well, I thought it polite to ask," Inara smiled. Jayne, River and Chelsa were eating dinner at the Reynolds' 'mansion', as Jayne had referred to it when they had arrived. Which earned him an elbow in the belly, River's preferred method of expressing her dislike. Jayne 'oofed', but she knew he barely felt it. Jayne's stomach muscles were just as hard and developed as the rest of him.

"Ya dang near own the ship," Jayne sighed. "All ya gotta do is say, 'I aim to come along'."

"I aim to come along," Inara mimicked Jayne as best she could. Everyone had a good laugh at that, including Jayne.

"This here is a fine meal," Jayne said, helping himself to seconds.

"We have a fine cook," Inara smiled, nodding to Mrs. Blalock, whom she had invited to join them. The older woman had resisted at first, but Inara's insistence had won. As usual.

"You're a good eater, boy," Blalock smiled at Jayne.

"He sure is," River, Mal, and Inara all said at once.

"Whatever," Jayne grunted, then blocked an elbow from River.

"I see you keep him in line, little one," Blalock laughed jovially.

"Have to," River nodded. "He takes a great deal of looking after."

"I don't neither," Jayne complained.

"Yes, you do!" Again, Mal, Inara and River sounded like a chorus.

When dinner was finished, River drew Mal aside for a moment to mention her summation of the killer. Mal listened without comment until she was finished.

"Well, reckon that would explain a lot," he commented. "How'd you come up with all this?" he asked.

"Just a summation," River shrugged. "I've thought about it a great deal, in the last while. I don't know if it will help, but decided to share it with you."

"You just keep right on sharin' little one," Mal told her. "We need all the help we can get." River smiled, hugging him. She couldn't help but feel the despair rolling off her adopted _Baba_ as the thoughts of the killer wafted across his cheerfulness. She didn't allow him to notice, however.

"You're welcome."

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"We'll look after her," Jayne promised, as Mal dropped Inara off at the ship. _Companion_ was loaded to the gills, and within thirty minutes of take off.

"I know that," Mal nodded, watching River and Chelsa walk Inara to her room, carrying some of her things.

"Mal, let us worry about her for a few days," Jayne pressed. "Get some rest. You don't look too good. No offense."

"I'd be worried if you thought I looked good," Mal snorted. Jayne chuckled.

"'Spect you would, but you know what I mean."

"I know," Mal nodded. "And I'll try. Thing've been quiet for a week, now. 'Cept for the cow thieves," he added. "Maybe we can at least catch them."

"Maybe so," Jayne nodded. "Well, we got to git in the black. Ain't makin' no money sittin' here."

"And I need the money," Mal said seriously. "Imagine Inara'll be spending everything you make on this run right there on Astra. If'n I'm lucky, you'll make fuel." Jayne laughed.

"Maybe it won't be so bad as all that, Mal."

"With River helpin'?" Mal asked. Just then, Kaylee and Simon showed up. With Kaylee's bags.

"What's all this?" Mal asked.

"Since I can't work no more for a while, I can go to Astra with Inara and River!" Kaylee exclaimed, as Simon hoisted her bags onto his shoulder.

"It's official," Jayne sighed. "I'm in hell."

"You're in hell?" Mal demanded. "Now there's _three_ of'em ta spend my money!"

"Remember not to strain yourself, _bao bei_," Simon was saying as he struggled with Kaylee's bags. Jayne took the biggest, and Simon nodded his eternal thanks.

"I ain't strainin' nothin'," Kaylee assured him, making her way up the ramp. "'Nara! River! I'm here!" she shouted.

"'And you need to get plenty of rest," Simon continued. "And be sure you have Chelsa keep an eye on your blood pressure. Oh, and. . . ."

"Simon, women been havin' babies since long 'fore you was a doctor," Kaylee informed him. "I reckon I can manage for a few days."

"Ain't no babies bein' born on this boat!" Jayne said firmly. He would remember that later.

"Looks like you'll be the one what ain't gettin' no rest, Jayne," Mal snickered, as Simon struggled to keep up with Kaylee, who was already on the stairs. Inara, River and Chelsa came out, smiling and calling a greeting.

"Least that means you can," Jayne shrugged philosophically. "Best you enjoy it."

"I hope I can," Mal replied. "I really do."

"Well, I gotta git Simon off here, and get one o' them gals at the controls, or we gonna be late gettin' there," Jayne sighed. "Take care, Mal."

"Ya'll too, Jayne. See ya in a week or so."

"With a movin' van and some help!" Jayne reminded him.

"I'll see to it," Mal sighed, walking to his car. It was times like this, with things so. . .so _normal_, that Mal could almost forget there was a monster among them. Somewhere.

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After watching _Companion_ lift smoothly into the air, Mal made his way home. There wasn't much more could be done at the office, and it was the weekend. And he _was_ tired. He'd tried to hide it as much as he could, for Inara's benefit mostly. Had she known how bad he was feeling, she might have postponed her trip, and he didn't want that. She needed the trip after these last few weeks.

He'd spoken to Simon before leaving the plant, and the young doctor had seen at once how tired Mal was. He gave Mal several medicines, and told him to go home, eat, take the meds, and crawl into bed and stay there until at least noon the next day. For once, Mal hadn't argued. He didn't have the strength.

"Mrs. Blalock, happen you want some time off, you can take it," he told the woman as he finished eating. "I saw the doctor, and he's ordered me to rest up tonight and tomorrow. Reckon I'm gonna follow his advice."

"You should," Blalock nodded firmly. "Reckon you don't pay me to give advice, but you don't look well, Sheriff."

"I ain't the Sheriff in this house," Mal told her, smiling. "You call me Mal."

"All right, Mal," Blalock nodded seriously. "You don't look well. You're over tired for one thing. I can see it plain as day. And you ain't rightly recovered from your injuries neither, I'd say, though I can't be knowing how serious they was to start. You rest up tonight, and then we'll see tomorrow whether I take any time off or not." Mal looked at her for a moment.

"I know," she waved his unspoken comment away. "I ain't knowed you long. But I like you, Sher. . .Mal. And I like that woman of yours. I like working for you two. Ain't every family around here would accept a hired hand at the dinner table, especially when there's company comin' to call."

"We're all just folks," Mal shrugged. "You ain't the only one what works for me outside the Sheriff's Office, you know. And them same family that you ate with are also employees o' mine. They became family over the years, and through their actions, but they still work for me. Well, for Inara and I, guess'd be more correct."

"I know that," Blalock informed him. "And I like it. You got a way o' inspirin' loyalty, Malcolm Reynolds. Reckon I can be just as loyal as they are, bein' as you treat me just as well."

Mal just looked at her for a minute, then laughed a little.

"Well, I guess Inara musta left you with instructions for my care and feedin'," he chuckled.

"She mighta had," Blalock chuckled herself. "I'd a done it anyway, though," she added. "Like I said, I like you. All o' you."

"Well, on that happy note, I'll be a good boy and take my meds, and then head to bed. Thank you, by the way," he added as he started upstairs.

"You need somethin', you call me," the older woman ordered. "I'll be out here or in my room, readin'."

Mal was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Mrs. Blalock covered him up half an hour later, and turned out the light.

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"Woman reported missing a half hour ago," Bonds told Reeves as soon as she answered her motel room door.

"Where?" she asked, allowing Bonds into the room. She gathered her clothes and headed to the washroom to change.

"Club similar to the one where we think he picked up Whitham," Bonds told her.

"Same look?" Reeves called from the bathroom.

"Near identical," Bonds confirmed. Reeves exited the bathroom, pulling her hair into a pony tail. She took up her gun and badge.

"Let's go."

The ride to the scene was quiet. And took only ten minutes. When they arrived, members of the Mount Talmidge PD were already canvassing the club goers. The two quickly corralled the investigator.

"What do you have?" Bonds asked.

"Several people noted a young woman, fitting your victim profile, being 'assisted' out of the club by a man. No one would have noticed, except she had a friend. The friend couldn't find her, and once she'd looked around for a few minutes, panicked and called it in."

"Any chance that the girl just found herself a date?" Bonds asked.

"Nope," the investigator shook his head. "The two went together because of your killer, and promised each other they'd not leave without the other. People are takin' your warning seriously, it looks like."

"Let's hope it helps us," Reeves sighed. "Any surveillance footage available?"

"Yeah, but it's grainy like. I seen it once already. You can make them out leaving, but the guy is either lucky as hell, or knows where the cameras are. Not one shot of his face."

"If we can get a physical description from it, that's more than we have at the moment," Bonds sounded hopeful. "Okay, let's have a look at the footage. I assume you've already alerted other jurisdictions?"

"Yep," the investigator was leading them into a nearby police van. "And we placed a call to your Sheriff's Office down in Bickford. Killer must have a real hard-on for them folks," he added.

"I guess," Bonds shrugged. He didn't understand the killer's obsession with dumping his victims there either. "I assume you've got ID on the girl that was taken?"

"I do," the investigator nodded. "Her name is Valerie Frost. Her father owns the Agribusiness Complex, out on the south side of town. 'Bout the richest man around here."

"Great," Bonds sighed. There would be heavy pressure now to catch the killer, and do so before he could kill the girl.

"Yep," the investigator nodded. "Already called the Mayor, the Parish Supervisor, and three of the city and county commissioners. This one's a hot potato, sure enough."

Bonds sat down to review the footage, ready to take any notes. Reeves settled in beside him. It would be a long night.


	13. Chapter 13

Sins of the Past – Chapter Thirteen

Writer owns no part of Firefly, and intends no infringement. For entertainment only. ONLY.

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As soon as Toby had received the call, he had immediately called in all off-duty deputies. As soon as he knew they were on the way, he had called _Serenity_.

"Zoe, sorry to bother you, but I need some help," he said when he had her on the wave.

"What is it?" Zoe asked. The ship had set down not an hour ago. Toby briefly explained.

"I'd like for you to have your two shuttles come to town, and pick up Blade and her team," he finished. "Scout the parish from above. Maybe we can get lucky."

Zoe paused on the brink of refusing. This wasn't the same as Goldie going off with Mal to look at yet another dead body, dredging up nightmares from the past. This was actively working to catch a monster in the act.

"We can do that," she nodded finally. "Should be there within the hour."

"I really appreciate this, Zoe," Toby told her. "I ain't called Mal. He needs to rest, if he can. Happens we find something, then I'll call him."

"Works for me," Zoe agreed. "We'll be on the way shortly." With the wave broke, Zoe turned to leave, only to see Goldie standing there.

"You and me?" he asked. She nodded.

"I'll take Shuttle One," was all he said. The two went quickly to gather their gear, and to make sure that Gerry and Becca knew to button up tight, and for Becca, who was close to the victim profile, to stay on ship. Both nodded their agreement.

Forty-five minutes later, the shuttles were in town, with Blade and Wart going with Goldie, while Ping and Rolo accompanied Zoe.

Within an hour of Toby's call, both shuttles were in the air, searching for a killer.

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The McElvey brothers were thieves. Good thieves, in their opinion. They stole cattle on a big scale. Using their cattle hauler, they would spot outlying herds, then cut through fences to load as many as possible onto their trailer.

Once loaded, they would carry the cattle to a less than reputable slaughterhouse, just across the parish line, where the cattle were quickly converted into platinum, which they just as quickly blew on drink, drugs, and women up in Mount Talmidge. They had their act down to a science.

Tonight they were skirting a ranch that lay closer to town than was normal, but the pickings were good with this particular outfit. Prime stock, just waiting on them to pilfer it. The cattle were gathered around a watering hole, making it far easier to gather them up, and place them on the truck.

"Damnit, Gene, hurry up!" Harv Mcelvey hissed, as his youngest brother struggled to get the last few cows onto the trailer.

"You want it done faster, then git your lazy ass down here and help!" Gene hissed back, angry that, as usual, he was doing all the work.

Just as Harv started to reply, he heard the sound of an aircraft.

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"Well, lookie what we got here," Blade smiled wickedly as she looked the truck over through her NVG. "What a coincidence."

"We ain't out here for cow thieves," Wart grunted.

"We can't let them go," Blade insisted. "Mal's been takin' a lot o' flack over this. And we been workin' on it too long not to grab'em while we can."

"Let's make it fast, then," Wart sighed. "We need to get back on the search as soon as possible." Blade nodded, and raised her radio.

"This is Blade. Any ground units in the vicinity of the S Bar S, along Walker's Road?" The nearest unit was miles away.

"Well, I guess we take them, and haul them with us," Blade decided. "Golden Child, can you get us down there before they take off?"

"Maybe," Goldie smiled. "But I can take out the rig, if I can't," he added, flicking the switches that dropped the shuttle's railgun from it's berth, and activated the weapon.

"Wow," Blade commented. "I didn't know these things were armed."

"No one else does, either," Goldie told her. "Like to keep it that way," he added.

"Won't hear it from me," she promised. "Can you cripple the truck without killin'em?"

"Well, let's us find out."

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"Forget the rest, we gotta git outta here!" Harv shouted, running back toward the cab. He was almost there when the world around him exploded.

He was vaguely aware of the shuttle landing nearby. By the time he had regained his senses, he was in hand cuffs, laying on his side next to Gene.

"You boys is under arrest, by the way," Wart grinned, kicking the two into the back of the shuttle, out of the way. Meanwhile, Blade was on the radio again, as Goldie got them airborne.

"Dispatch, contact the S Bar S for me, tell them we just apprehended two men who were using a cattle hauler to load cattle from a water hole on their property near Walker Road. They may want to send someone out to check for fence damage. Oh," she added, "might want to see if they had men out loading the cattle, I guess. We may owe these two an apology." Being as it was after midnight, she doubted it. Never hurt to check, though. Her reply wasn't long in coming.

"S Bar advices not just no, but hell no," the dispatcher's voice betrayed her mirth. "They have a crew on the way, and say thanks."

"Our pleasure," Blade replied. "We're continuing the search. We'll bring these two in when we return."

"Okay, let's get back to work," Blade ordered, taking her NVG up again.

"We ain't did nothin'!" Gene shouted at near the top of his lungs. Wart looked at him.

"Ever been throwed outta a shuttle at five hun'ert feet in the air?" he asked idly. "No? Wanna be?"

Gene McElvey wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. But he knew a threat when he heard one. Both brothers decided to endure the indignity.

"Smart move," Wart grumbled, moving slightly forward, but staying where he could keep an eye on the two thieves.

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"Whole lotta nothin'," Rolo said quietly, handing the NVG's off to Ping so he could take a break. They'd been at it for two hours now. Zoe eased the shuttle around, taking a new course. She and Goldie had worked out a quick plan to quarter the parish, starting with the area's bordering the Mount Talmidge area.

"We don't even know how long he waits before bringing his victims here, do we?" Zoe asked. Rolo shook his head.

"No, ma'am, we don't. For that matter, we don't know if he kills them here, or somewhere else. For all we know, he's killin' that girl slow somewhere north o' here right now. Mayhap won't see him tonight, or even tomorrow night."

"Well, if he notices us up here, searchin', he ain't likely to try and bring her into the parish," Zoe commented.

"Was thinkin' on that myself," Ping murmured. "Thing is, he's got all the time in the world. And we can't do this forever." Zoe looked at her fuel gauge.

"We can do it for a while, though" she answered.

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Toby finally called everyone in an hour or so after daylight. The force had been out for nine hours, with nothing to show for it.

_Well, that ain't rightly true_, he reminded himself. _Did catch the cow thieves. _

But the big target, the target that had everyone on edge, hadn't shown. Deputies were still watching every road that led from Talmidge Parish into Bickford Parish, but how many back trails and goat paths were there? Toby had lived here most of his life, and he didn't know.

"We're doin' all we can," he said softly to himself.

But it wasn't enough. And for the life of him, Toby couldn't figure anything else to do. They were at the mercy of a madman.

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"So are we gonna do it?" Jayne asked, as he and River sat in the cockpit. They were just hours away from Astra, unaware of the new developments on Argo. This was the first time the two had been alone in over a day.

"I'd like to," River nodded. "I know it seems like a lot, but. . . ."

"It ain't that much," Jayne snorted. "And it ain't like we can't afford it, neither."

"I know," River nodded. "I just. . .I don't want to throw our money away, that's all."

"Between you, and me, that'd take a lotta throwin', baby girl," Jayne shrugged. "I ain't spent much o' what Book left me at all. Most o' that went to Kay and her folks. Spent a bit on you, course," he winked. River smiled.

"So long as you don't think we're being. . .well, wasteful."

"No point in makin' money if'n ya don't spend it. We pretty much live on what we make, anyway. Got money already set aside for the house. And for fixin's," he added. "Got money squared away for the girl, happens she wants to go to school somewhere, though I don't think that's likely. And you can't tell we even took none of it." He rose, walking over to kiss his wife.

"Like I said, we won't miss it."

"All right, then," River nodded. "I'll try and decipher what she really wants as we shop. I'll make sure she gets what she wants. And maybe some baby things for Kaylee."

"That'd be nice," Jayne nodded. "Have to spoil the young'un good. Give'em fits when he gets home," he smirked.

"You're mean," River giggled.

"That's right."

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"Think me and the boy'll go over to the gun shop," Jayne announced as the party gathered near the ramp. Liam looked pleased at that. Chelsa looked torn, but decided she really wanted to go with the women.

"All right," River nodded.

"I want all o' you carryin' a com," Jayne ordered. "And I'd take it kindly was you wearin' your. . . ." He trailed off as each woman raised her shirt to expose the material of their body armor.

"We know you pretty well, Jayne," Inara smiled.

"Whatever," he mumbled, which brought laughter all around. "You got your. . . ." He broke off again as River showed him her pistol. Chelsa patted her bag, and even Inara reached inside her jacket.

"Fine," Jayne sighed. "All right. I want you callin' me when you start to a new store, and when you git there. Wanna know where ya are at all times. _Dong ma_?"

"Anyone ever tell you how much you sound like Cap'n, Jayne?" Kaylee teased. Jayne went beet red at that.

"Ready boy?" he asked Liam. Liam nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He thought it was funny, too.

"Let's get away from this petticoat coalition, then," he ordered. The two of them departed, Liam having to hustle to keep up with Jayne's long steps. River sighed, shaking her head.

"He don't mean nothin' by it," Kaylee said.

"Oh, I don't mind," River smiled. "I just wish I could stop him from worrying so."

"I don't think that's possible," Inara said softly. "Family is everything to Jayne."

"Yes," River agreed. "Well, we may as well go and see about your new home furnishings. Shall we?"

Together the women set off. Ahh, shopping!

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"I tell ya, that's a _knife_!" Jayne enthused. He and Liam were looking over the newest 'tools' at the weapons shop they frequented.

"Sure is, boss," Liam nodded. He liked it himself, but it looked too big for his hand, as yet. Maybe one day.

"Well, reckon Binky is just as good, though," Jayne mused, taking one last look at the knife before moving on. He paused at the handgun counter, of course, looking over the display cases.

"Say, ain't that the little pistol you bought for Cap'n and Zoe?" Liam asked, pointing. Jayne nodded.

"Sure is. Right nice little gun, too. Small enough to be a hide out, but got a powerful wallop, for such a teeny thing."

"What you think about me gettin' one?" Liam asked. "I been thinkin' I need to get a back up piece. I put it off once, thinkin' things was about to settle down. But now. . . ." He shrugged. Jayne considered it.

"Well, it'd do right well for you," he said finally. "Thing about it, you want to chose one that you can carry when you're dressed up, like. One that you can hide pretty easy, and still depend on. This one might do just fine for that, I think." Liam asked the sales person to let him see the weapon. Both were well known in the shop, and the counter attendant didn't bat an eye. Liam hefted the pistol.

"Heavier'n I thought," he commented. Jayne nodded.

"Yep. Wanna make sure you can carry it easy enough, you aim to use it as a back-up or a hide out."

"Well, it still ain't that heavy," Liam shrugged. "I think it would do fine. Be nice if they had one same caliber as Greta, though."

"Greta?" Jayne asked, eyebrows raised. Liam flushed a bit.

"Was my first crush, 'fore I had ta quit school. Never had the nerve to say nothin' to her, o' course. I was too dirt poor to carry her out anywhere, anyhow."

"Seems like a good name," Jayne shrugged. "See do they have what you want."

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"River, I can't afford that," Inara laughed, as River reclined luxuriously on a leather sofa. There were nine pieces in all with the set, including a love seat.

"Only live once," River smiled. "Do you like it, though? I think it would look wonderful in your house!"

"Me too!" Kaylee seconded, from her spot on the love seat. "'Nara this is great!"

"I'm sure it is," Inara said in her best 'adult in the room' voice. "But as I said, I have an entire house to furnish, in addition to a school, so I'm afraid that's a bit out of my price range."

"All I'm asking is, if you could buy it, do you think it's what you'd prefer for your home?" River stated, rising to follow. "I like it. Jayne and I will start building soon." She spoke as if seeking advice, she hoped. It worked.

"Yes, if I had an unlimited bank account I would love to have something along those lines in my home," Inara nodded. "It's perfect, really," she sighed. Her disappointment was evident. River nodded. As Inara turned her back to look at something else, River had a quiet word with the salesperson waiting on them. The saleswoman was reluctant at first, until River showed the woman her Gold bank card. After that, River could do no wrong.

And so, as Inara Serra looked through the store, noticing things she wanted, and settling for things she could afford, River Cobb was stealthily following behind her, changing her order. Kaylee, not realizing what River was doing, none-the-less caught on to the game itself, and began to help quiz Inara, talking about her own plans with Simon for a house. This took the heat off of River, and allowed her to make sure that she had everything she wanted Inara and her _Baba_ to have.

She had seen Mal's office, and managed, without Inara seeing, to select a beautiful desk for the room, along with a very comfortable chair, and a small two place sofa. She was sure he'd have room for it. She selected matching furniture for his office which, while unique, still blended well with Inara's selections for the rest of the house.

River made no changes in what Inara ordered for the school. She left that to the former Companion. She did, however, exchange the desk Inara had ordered for herself for an elegant hardwood selection if the same size, with a matching chair. She also took the liberty of ordering office furniture for her that matched the desk and the decor.

Realizing how much she had done, River started to worry. She hoped Inara wouldn't be angry. She decided that if she was, then River would take the furniture, and hold it for the house she and Jayne were planning, replacing it with what Inara had originally ordered.

She was also looking at what _she_ would want, when their own house was finished.

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"Ever smoked a cee-gar, boy?" Jayne asked as they left the cigar shop

Jayne liked.

"Once or twice," Liam nodded.

"Want one o' these?" Jayne offered him one of the more expensive cigars he smoked now days. Liam took it. As the two walked along, smoking their cigars, they talked idly. Man talk, mostly, about guns, work, women, the way of the world. It was an easy afternoon.

Finally River called, stating that the women had finished their shopping, and were on their way to the ship. The two men angled that way.

"Proud of my new gun," Liam said, as they neared the ship.

"I like it," Jayne nodded. "Might take River to see about gettin' her one. Don't know if she'll like the recoil, though," he said thoughtfully.

"She can try mine," Liam offered. Jayne nodded.

"Thanks. I. . . .what the hell?" He broke off, seeing a truck waiting at the ship.

"This the _Private Companion_?" One of the men with the truck asked.

"It is," Jayne nodded. "Help you?"

"We got a trailer load delivery here for a Miss Inara Serra," he said, reading from his list.

"The whole _trailer_?" Jayne blurted.

"Yes, the whole trailer," he heard River's voice from behind him. Jayne turned.

"She's starting a school too, you know," River continued. "It's not just the house."

"Oh, yeah," Jayne nodded, having forgotten that. "Well, guess we best get loadin'."

"Liam Greggs are you _smoking_?" Inara demanded. The boy blushed slightly, trying to hide the offending cigar.

"He is," Jayne nodded.

"I don't think he's old. . . ."

"I do," Jayne cut Inara off. "He's a man grown, no matter what his age is. Proved it time and again. Reckon he can decide if he smokes a good cee-gar now and again on his own." Jayne's tone indicated that he expected the subject to be closed. Inara wisely just nodded. Satisfied, Jayne turned to the delivery men.

"Hope you all plan on loadin' all that."

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Mal sighed as he listened to Toby explain what had happened.

"Any word from Bonds? Or Reeves?"

"Just updates that amount to 'we ain't got nothin'," Toby shook his head. Monday morning had come far too early for him.

"We did catch the rustlers," Toby mentioned. Mal perked up at that.

"Really? How?" Toby explained, apologizing for calling in Mal's private assets for the search. Mal waved it away.

"It was a good idea," Mal told him. "We need to get a shuttle craft for our own use," he mused. "Big parish like this, we need some air transport. I'll speak to the Commissioners about it."

"Fact that we was able to catch the rustlers with one should help," Toby nodded. "And that we could search more area, faster, for the killer."

"I wonder if he's gonna bring her here? Like the others," Mal mused aloud.

"Maybe not," Toby replied, hopefully.

"Let's keep on the twelve hour schedule," Mal ordered. "And make sure we're patrolling the roads especially heavy. Can we use the weather alert to broadcast a warnin' to the outlyin' areas?"

"I think so," Toby nodded. The parish maintained a weather alert system connected to small receivers that most ranches and many urban homes used. In the event of bad weather, warnings could be issued to all residents in a timely manner. "I'll get right on that." Mal nodded. He placed a call to Zoe.

"Mornin' sir," Zoe smiled. "You look better."

"Got some sleep," Mal nodded. "Feel better too. Wanted to say thanks for helpin' out over the weekend. I appreciate it."

"Wasn't a problem, sir," Zoe smiled. "Think Goldie enjoyed shootin' up the rustler's trailer a bit over much, but at least he didn't kill'em."

"That was a nice piece o' shootin'," Mal nodded.

"He's been wantin' to use the gun since he missed out on the pirates, a while back. Think this did it."

"I'm glad he got it out of his system, then," Mal laughed.

"Any word?" Zoe asked.

"Nothin' so far," Mal shook his head. "Don't expect any, to be honest, until someone finds the body. I hate it. Seems we had a good shot this time. Just didn't work out, is all."

"Maybe he'll turn up," Zoe tried to be upbeat. "Give someone a chance to shoot his _pi gu_."

"I'll be first in line," Mal said darkly. "Well, I gotta go. Wanted to say how much I appreciated you helpin' out."

"Anything like that, we're always available, sir," Zoe promised. "And I'm sorry if. . . ."

"Don't, Zoe," Mal ordered. "I really do understand. And I don't blame you. I shouldn't of been imposing like that, no way. You were right. We know all we need to know that Goldie can tell us. I guess I was just using him, and Jayne, as a crutch. I'm sorry for that," he added.

"It's okay, Mal," Zoe said softly. "I understand. Take care, okay?"

"I will. You and Goldie need to come by the house next time you're in. Inara'll be here then, and we'll have the house set up like she wants it. Got a good cook, too."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Zoe smiled.

The wave broke, and Mal sat back in his chair. He was better rested, but _ai ya_ did he hurt. Something was going to have to give. He'd see Simon first chance he got. Maybe later today.

Meantime, he had work to do.

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_He had watched as the various police agencies swarmed around the club. A familiar excitement ran through him as he remembered their frenzied attempts to apprehend him. Ah, the thrill of the hunt._

_Now, with things quieting down, he would make his move. He could, of course, simply abandon his plans to place all his art work in the same place. But to do so would unravel the marvelous tapestry of fear he had woven there. And it would interfere with his planned masterpiece, on that oh so nearly perfect canvas he had found in Bickford. _

_That would simply never do._

_He liked a challenge, anyway. Fooling them all would be a wonderful challenge. Making them run in circles trying to catch him would make the police even more crazy, as well. He liked that. Eventually, they would realize that he couldn't be stopped. Once they did, the despair would settle over the town, perhaps the entire moon. He had already taken several suitable canvases from other towns. Some had been reported missing, others had not. His first victims, as usual, had been people no one would miss, at least not for some time. _

_Now, he was stepping up the game. It was time to put real pressure on everyone. Time to start hitting them where it hurt._

_He smiled at that, imagining the havoc he would soon be wreaking on the good people of Bickford Parish. And the Moon of Argo._


	14. Chapter 14

Sins of the Past – Chapter Fourteen

No copyright infringement intended, author writes for amusement only, yada yada yada...

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"And Goldie got to fire the shuttle cannon?" River was almost in tears from laughter. Zoe smiled over the wave. As usual, the two ships were passing in transit, _Serenity_ just hours into her run, _Companion_ the same distance from home.

"Shoulda seen him," the warrior woman grinned. "He was still gloating hours later when they finally called off the search, and he and Blade and Wart brought the cattle thieves in. It was comical, he was so proud of himself."

"Well, at least he got to shoot it," River giggled. "Maybe that makes up for his missing out on the pirate battle."

"That's what I said!" Zoe laughed again. "Mal said maybe he's got it out of his system now."

"How is _Baba_?" River asked. Zoe lost her grin at the question.

"He looks bad, sometimes, River," Zoe admitted. "Part of it is he's still in a lotta pain. But some of it has to be this thing with the Ghoul. Or whoever it is." River nodded.

"Is Goldie doing better?" she asked.

"Yep," Zoe nodded. "Nightmares are about gone. He's still paranoid as a long tailed cat in a room of rocking chairs, but that's easin' up some. Not enough to suit me, but some."

"Jayne as well," River agreed. "He isn't experiencing the horrible dreams he had at first, but he is still like a trap waiting to be sprung. There's really not much more we can do. I asked him not to 'assist' anymore, and he agreed that unless _Baba_ needed something that only Jayne could do, then he would not. It surprised him, I think, that I asked it of him," she added.

"Well, River, you are partial to Mal," Zoe told the younger woman. "I imagine that Jayne was surprised that you wouldn't want him to do all he could to help. I know that Goldie was like that. He wanted to help Mal because of my relationship with the Captain."

"I think we made the right decision," River said firmly. "Or I should say you did, and I was wise to follow it," she amended with a smile.

"That was hard for me to do," Zoe admitted. "I've. . .I don't think I've ever flat out refused Mal on near on anything. We've had our differences, o' course. No two people been workin' side by side long as we have can avoid it. But I'm pretty sure this is the first time I ever flat out said 'no'."

"I doubt he was offended," River offered.

"He said the same thing," Zoe nodded. "Said he was using Goldie, and Jayne, as a 'crutch'. On account o' they had experienced all this before. He's moved past that now. And the Marshal's being involved has took some of the pressure off him. Not that they've done a damn bit o' good," Zoe frowned.

"I think you're ahead on that score, Zoe," River smiled. "She had a beautiful shiner, Inara said. Try to lay it aside. She says that Captain Daddy told her that both were much better behaved now."

"Better be," the older woman said darkly. "Next time. . . ." She let the threat hang.

"I don't blame you," River smiled. "Well, take care Zoe, and you guys fly safe."

"You too, little one. Watch yourself when you're on the ground." The wave broke, and River started down the passageway to the galley. Inara wanted to land the ship, which had almost hurt Chelsa's feelings. River had spoken to her, and made it clear that if she made a scene, or even looked unhappy, that her flying days would be few and far between for some time. As usual, that was all it took. Chelsa was all smiles around Inara.

Kaylee, of course, hadn't been able to stay out of the engine room. Holly had not taken offense, since Kaylee had taught him all he knew about the ships and their systems. He was always eager to learn a bit more from her. River was sure he had. And Kaylee was very pleased with how well Holly maintained the ship.

All in all, River was very pleased with the trip. Humming lightly, she headed aft.

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"Mal, we've found her."

Mal sighed, looking up from his desk. He'd been expecting the words for the last two or three days, but that didn't make them any easier to hear.

"I take it the _hundan_ managed to bring her in here, despite everything?"

"Yeah," Toby looked dejected. "We tried, Boss, we really did. Got the overtime to prove it. But there's just too much ground to cover."

"I know," Mal nodded, rising. "Well, let's head out there. You call the Marshals?"

"They're on the way."

On his desk was the morning paper from Mount Talmidge. The headlines and entire front page were dedicated to one thing.

The Bickford Slasher.

Wonderful.

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The scene was as clean as ever. No clues, no mistakes. Nothing.

"I was so sure we'd be able to get him this time," Bonds was shaking his head. "In spite of all we could do, he still did it. It's like he's a magician or something."

"He's just had a lot o' practice," Mal sighed. "At least a dozen places hit on the search we did. Same victim profile, same methods, same result. Nothin'. Scenes always clean. After a while, the killin's stop, and he seems to just move on."

"If what the other places experienced are any indication, then he's just getting started here," Reeves said mournfully. "And we're no closer to catching him than when we started."

"Well, we do have a physical description," Bonds argued. "That's something. Not much, I agree," he held up a hand to forestall her objections. "But it's not nothing."

"It may as well be," Toby sighed. The four of the were back at Mal's office, gathering around his desk. The body of Valerie Frost was on her way to Mount Talmidge, via the Marshals Medical Examiner. Her father, Everest Frost, was screaming at the top of his very rich and influential lungs about the lack of law enforcement on the moon. Immense pressure was being put on the Marshals to solve this crime, and quickly.

"Funny," Mal said. "Long as these girls were nobody special, seemed like this case had a lower priority. Now, all of sudden it's important." New resources were being allocated even as they sat there, and Bonds had been notified that a task force was being formed to tackle the problem. He and Reeves weren't on it. They were to continue their investigation until the task force was ready, then turn over all their notes, evidence, etc, to them.

It had sounded a lot like the speech they'd given Mal when they'd first come to Bickford. They hadn't like it any more than he had.

"Well, if they can solve it, so much the better," Toby shrugged. "If it saves even one girl, I'm happy."

"And if they don't, then no one can say anything about the effort we've put in not being enough," Reeves pointed out. Mal frowned at that.

_She's an ambitious little thing_, he thought darkly. Well, she didn't work for him, so she wasn't his problem.

"Well, it's still our problem until they get rolling," Bonds reminded them. "Any suggestions?"

"I still think. . . ." Reeves began.

"Other than that one," Bonds cut her off.

"What one?" Mal and Toby said at once. Bonds sighed, shooting a glare at Reeves.

"Isabel wants to go undercover, offering herself up as a target for the killer." Like all LEO's, Bonds was reluctant to use the media name for the man responsible for so many deaths. Naming him simply gave him more of what he wanted. Attention.

"Undercover?" Mal looked stunned. "How in the world would that work? I mean, it ain't like you can hang a sign around your neck, proclaiming your desire to be the next victim."

"No, but I can make myself look like the type of woman he preys upon," Reeves spoke quietly but surely. This was an unexpected opportunity.

"I have the same height, weight, and build as the victims so far. My hair color is roughly the same. I can visit the clubs in Mount Talmidge, alone, and see if he bites. I'll have an apartment, and a job, just to cover the bases if he 'cases' his victims. We don't know that all of them were taken from clubs," she pointed out. Mal found himself impressed with her idea, and presentation.

"Well, I can't say one way or another," he finally shrugged. "You don't work for me, for all that you've been under my orders during this. I will say this. Happen you do convince your superiors to go along, we'll back you any way we can." Mal looked at Toby, who nodded.

"I agree," he offered. "But Reeves? Have you thought about the danger you're exposing yourself to? If he's successful, we may not can find you before it's too late." Reeves had the presence to look a bit afraid, though she wasn't. She had planned very well.

"I know it's a possibility," she told them. "And I haven't decided on this without a lot of thought," she added, truthfully. "And yeah, it scares me a little. But we've got to do something. I. . .if we don't come up with something, I'm afraid we'll never catch him. And how long will he keep going, if we don't?" she threw in. Might as well use their fear to help get their assistance.

The men in the room fell silent. Reeves, in her typical fashion, thought that the 'men' were thinking that she, as a woman, shouldn't take these risks. She might have been surprised.

Bonds was unhappy because of the danger to his partner. They were soon to be removed from the case, and he saw this as an unneeded danger.

Toby was thinking that Reeves might be trying to prove she was a team player, after the disaster her initial introduction had been. She had thawed some, but remained aloof for the most part, as if she considered herself slumming. If that was her intent, he decided she was even more stupid than he'd given her credit for. And that was saying something.

Mal was studying the need for such a move. They had failed to catch the killer even after being notified within a half hour of his latest abduction. If Reeves were to be bait, he reasoned, then she would be under constant surveillance. Should the killer actually strike at her, then they would undoubtedly be men in a position to apprehend him. Or kill him. At this point, Mal didn't care one way or the other.

_Well,_ he admitted to himself. _That ain't exactly true. I'd rather he be dead._

"Well," Mal finally broke the silence, "like I said. I don't have no say so in a matter like that. You want to do it, and your boss approves, then that's for you all to do. But I meant what I said. You decide to do it, and we'll back you every way we can." Reeves nodded in appreciation.

"I'm with Mal," Toby nodded. Everyone looked to Bonds.

"I don't have any more authority than you do," he told Reeves. "If you can get the boss to sign off on it, you know I'll back you up. But I wish you wouldn't. It's stupidly dangerous in my opinion. And we're due for re-assignment in just days."

_All the more reason to act now!_ Reeves wanted to scream.

"I respect your concerns, Hiram, I do," was what she said. "But during those few days, he may strike again. If he does, maybe he'll go after me."

_And if he does, I'll take him down!_ she almost added. _I'll be the agent that took down the Bickford Slasher!_

"Like I said, if you can get the boss to sign off on it, I'll back you up."

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"You want to _what?_" Haimes looked harried, to say the least. Even on the cortex screen, you could tell that he hadn't had much sleep. Mal decided that whatever pressure he himself was under, Haimes had it worse.

"I want to be a decoy for the Slasher," Reeves shrugged again, trying to remain calm. _So close, girl, don't blow it!_ "I think it's the best chance we have of bagging him. And, as I said before, I do match the victim profile very closely."

"You two won't even be on the task force, once it's running!" Haimes reminded her. "I won't have any say over it either. It's all being run from the main office in Argo City."

"We're still on the case until they take over," Reeves reminded him. "We can't just sit on our hands until they take over."

"You realize how dangerous this is?" Haimes demanded. "How stupid?" he added, his voice challenging.

"I understand the danger," Reeves contented herself in saying.

"Reynolds, are you a part of this?" Haimes demanded.

"No sir, I am not," Mal replied. "I told them same thing I'll tell you. They don't work for me. Mount Talmidge is outta my baliwick. This is your show. I did offer any and all assistance we can provide here, but I'd do that for any operation your office mounted. Other than that, and me adding my own 'dangerous and stupid' comment, I have nothin' to do with this."

"So you two came up with this all on your own?" Haimes asked, and Reeves detected a note of interest in his voice.

"No sir," Bonds answered before she had to. "This is all Isabel's idea. I said the same thing you did. But she's my partner. If she wants to do this, and you approve, I will back her to the hilt. I don't like it, but I don't have to."

"So you don't approve either?" Haimes asked. Bonds looked at Reeves before answering.

"I think she deserves a medal just for volunteering," he admitted. "But no, I don't. For reasons that have already been stated."

"Reeves, what say you to all this negative feedback?" Haimes asked.

"I repsect their opinions," Reeves began firmly. "But I think this is the only way we can nail this bastard. I know that they object, and I feel sure most of that is concern for my personal safety." Toby managed not to snort at that. It was a trial, though.

"But I honestly believe that we have to do this. I'm tired of finding dead girls and not being able to do anything about it. Someone has to try something new. This sort of operation has worked in the past. I know that's no guarantee that it will work now, but it's encouraging. For me, anyway. I want to do this, sir," she ended firmly.

Haimes studied her a long time, thinking furiously. He was under immense pressure. The Chief Marshal himself had called earlier in the day to express his extreme displeasure. In words that Haimes could still hear ringing off the walls.

Despite the pressure, he was reluctant to risk one of his officers. True, she had volunteered. That didn't change the dangers. Or the possibility that she, too, would be killed in a horrible manner. He sat back.

"If we do this," he said finally, "it has to be multi-tiered. Electronic monitoring, locator beacon, men on the scene, air cover, the works. It will take at least a day to set all that up."

"We can be back in just a few hours, ready to go," Reeves nodded, fighting to remain calm. _He's going to do it, he's going to do it! _Haimes looked at something off screen for a long time. No one spoke as he deliberated.

"All right," he said finally. "I'll start setting things up here. We'll have ID, housing, and work assignments in place by the end of the day. We'll have you working here, in the building, as a clerk. Nothing threatening. Might even entice him a little. Get back here as soon as you can."

"Yes sir!" Reeves grinned. The others were less enthusiastic.

"Keep us advised," Mal ordered. "We'll be ready if anything breaks."

"It's been good to work with you, Sheriff Reynolds," Reeves said diplomatically.

"I'm sure it's been a pleasure," Mal chuckled, taking the offered hand. "Watch yourself." After the two left, Mal looked at Toby.

"Hope that ambitious streak ain't the death of her," he said drily.

"Was thinkin' that myself," Mal nodded.

"And I hope she's a better actor around him than she was around us," Toby chuckled.

Isabel Reeves might have fooled Bonds. Might even have fooled Haimes. But not Malcolm Reynolds and Toby Bontrager.

"Ambition aside," Mal shrugged. "Hope it works."

"Yeah," Toby nodded. "Me too."

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"Gorram it, this is heavy!" Jayne exclaimed as he and Liam wrestled the largest box into the house. "Where ya want it Inara?" The promised help had failed to materialize. Just as Jayne had figured. They had borrowed a truck from the plant, and George had had some men help transfer it to the truck. But he and Liam were on their own unloading.

"Over here, Jayne," Inara pointed to an open space in her living room. "I don't. . .I think there's been a mistake. There's too many pieces of living room furniture." River's eyes caught Jayne's, and he ordered Liam and Chelsa outside with him.

"We'll see what's left, and decide what to bring in next," he said. When they were alone, River looked at Inara.

"Inara," she said quietly. "I need to tell you something, and I need you to promise me you won't be mad."

"This isn't even mine!" Inara was inspecting the boxes. "What, dear?" Inara realized that River was speaking to her. "Did you say something?"

"I need you to not be mad," River repeated. "I. . .I did something you may not like. Jayne and I did," she added, deciding that he could share some of the blame, since he would get some of the credit.

"What?" Inara looked puzzled. "I could never be mad at you. Either of you. I'm mad at those idiots in that furniture store! To think that place came so highly recommended!" River sighed.

"Inara!" When the Companion looked at her, startled, River tried again.

"The order isn't wrong," she told her friend. "I. . .I changed it."

"What? Why would you do that?" Inara demanded. "River, I worked hard to pick out what I could afford. I had everything just as I wanted it!"

"I exchanged the things you bought for your home with the things you said you'd actually like to have," River admitted sheepishly. "And. . .well, Jayne and I paid for it. All of it." No sense beating around the bush, as Jayne liked to say.

"You. . .what?" Inara seemed dazed.

"I only did it with the things for the house," River rushed to say. "I didn't change any of the school things. And yes, you did pay for the school furnishings. But. . .I paid for the house furniture. Jayne and I. It's a combination of house warming and wedding presents."

"River, I. . . ."

"Please don't be angry," River pleaded. "Your original order is on hold, as you placed it. Just in case."

"That's why you were quizzing me so at the store," Inara's eyes narrowed slightly. "You weren't interested in my opinion for your house at all!"

"Not true!" River assured her. "I have a list of your suggestions that I plan to incorporate into the house we're planning. Including most of the things you suggested in the furniture store. I just. . .well, added some things. And changed some things. Please don't be mad," she plead again. "We just really wanted to do this, and knew you wouldn't allow us to."

Inara just looked at her for a moment, then sat down.

"The living room suite?" she asked, looking at the boxes.

"The leather," River nodded.

"And the four poster?"

"Uh, yes," River nodded again. "King size, though," she almost hated to add.

"And the kitchen. . . ."

"All of it," River sighed. "Everything. Nothing you thought you paid for made the trip. But only for the house!" she hastened to add. "Everything you ordered for the school is the same. Uh, well," she stammered, remembering the desk. "Um, there might be a different desk. Same size, though! Oh, and there _may_ be some extra furniture for your office," she added. "And for _Baba's_." River bit her lower lip.

"Are you mad?" she asked, fearing the answer. "I promise I'll make it right if you don't like it. I swear even! Cross my heart!" Inara couldn't help it. She laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more.

"I find none of this humorous," River said, her face turning red.

"That's because you can't s. . .see your face!" Inara gasped between laughs. "You look like a small child, who did something and wants her parents to like it!"

River frowned, but then nodded a bit. That was close to the truth after all.

"Does this mean you aren't mad?" River asked hopefully. "This seemed like a really good idea when we came up with it. Now, I'm starting to wonder."

"Oh, River," Inara sighed, embracing the younger woman. "I told you, I can't be mad at either of you. But _mei mei_, you can't just go around changing things like this! You have to let people make their own decisions, sweetie."

"You wouldn't have accepted our offer, though," River pointed out in what she firmly believed to be the voice of reason. "Jayne and I talked about this at great length. We wanted to do this, but couldn't figure out how. We didn't really know what you would want. This was the best we could come up with," she shrugged, looking hopeful.

Inara didn't know what to say, or to do. She sighed again, sitting down on a nearby box.

"River, it's wonderful that you wanted to do something nice for us. But, I can't keep these things! Mal and I have enough money to provide for ourselves, the Guild's vultures notwithstanding."

"I know that," River replied, sitting next to Inara. "As I said, this wasn't about providing for you. We wanted to do this. We just couldn't figure out a way. We didn't want to just run out and buy things, not knowing how you felt about them. And had I offered, in the store, to buy the things you wanted as a present, what would your answer have been?"

"I would have refused," Inara sighed. "Politely. River, you and Jayne have already done more than enough for us. If you hadn't helped me get the Guild off my back, none of this would even be possible. We would have had to sell everything, including _Serenity_, to pay them off, and would probably have still been short."

"That's a wonderful gift that I can never repay you for."

"That was _not_ a gift," River replied stubbornly. "That was a friend helping another friend. _This_," River waved her hands at the boxes around them, "is a _gift_. Please take it," she added. Tearfully. River was not above blackmail.

"Don't try that on me," Inara laughed. "I know better." River huffed.

"Then will you please accept our gifts?"

"River. . . ." Inara began, then stopped. She could see how much this meant to River. And probably to Jayne.

"River, I don't see how you afford all this," she temporized.

"Inara, Jayne is worth several million alone," River confided. "And we have a portfolio worth just as much. I have amassed it over the last two years, trading stocks and futures. No one, _no one_, besides you knows that. No one."

"That's why I told you it wasn't a problem," River continued. "I really didn't want to tell you that," she added. "Neither of us did."

Inara was speechless. She had no idea what to say.

"If it makes you feel better, I spent an obscene amount of money on Kaylee, too. She doesn't know it yet," River confided. "It's for the baby, mostly. Well, okay, almost all of it is for the baby," she amended.

"Please keep our secret, Inara," River asked quietly. Inara wanted to laugh it was so absurd. She reached out and took River's hand.

"I promise, _mei mei_, that I'll keep your horrible secret." Both women erupted into giggles at that.

"And the furniture?" River asked, hopeful again. Inara studied her for a moment.

"If you promise, _promise_, River, not to do something like this again, at least not to me, then yes. And thank you so very much, River. The house will be so much more beautiful thanks to you."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" River threw her arms around Inara's neck. The former Companion had to remind herself on occasion that River, and to a lesser extent Jayne, were both very inexperienced in living a normal life. This was one of those times. The two of them were really extraordinary people.

"Now, let's get the rest of this beautiful _gift_ unloaded, shall we?"


	15. Chapter 15

Sins of the Past – Chapter Fifteen

I own no part in Firefly, I mean no harm or disrespect, I write for. . .ah, you know all that

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Mal wasn't surprised when a coalition of commissioners once more descended on his office. He led the men and women to the conference room again, this time placing a deputy inside. He had a feeling this would get ugly.

It did.

"I hope, I _hope_, Sheriff, that you are thoroughly ashamed of yourself!" Marge Triple screched. "That. . .that _animal_ is now tied permanently to our parish! Our _town!_"

"That was no fault of mine, Commissioner," Mal replied evenly. "You'll have to take that up with the Mount Talmidge Media."

"It was _your_ ineptitude that led them to report on the story!" she almost screamed. "_Your_ inability to do your job has caused this problem!"

"A deranged killer has caused this problem, Commissioner," Mal shot back. "One that has done this same thing on at least a dozen planets and moons, _that we know of_, and no one else has come close to catching him."

"So you hide _your_ failures behind the failure of others," Triple said scornfully, but looking around the room at the other commissioners. "This is the disgrace we have as a Sheriff."

"I think that's more than a little harsh," Harmon Fuller said easily. "And quite a bit more than uncalled for," he added. Mal was relieved to see most of the others agree. Most, but not all, he noted.

"Well, I don't!" Triple huffed. "And it's high time we removed this man from office, and placed someone there who can protect us and our citizens! Someone with the proper morals to. . . ."

"I've heard enough," Mal said, standing. "Sit down, and shut up, or I'll have you removed from this building." Triple looked stunned for a moment. Mal had been ready for this.

"I'm not playin' with you, _Commissioner_," Mal warned when Triple opened her mouth to snap back. "See, I've taken all o' your abuse I aim to. I did some checking," he added, looking around. "I'm an elected official. Elected parish wide, at that, something no one else in this room can claim. I _don't answer to you_, Mrs. Triple. I answer to the people of this parish. Got that?" Triple's mouth snapped closed abruptly.

"I've enjoyed a good relationship with the commission, with your shiny exception, of course," he continued. "All of you know me. What I've been through, what my _family's_ been through, trying to fix a problem that _you_ brought to _me_. Well, I did that. And this is the loyalty I get in return." Several commissioners had the grace to look embarrassed. Triple wasn't among them of course.

"This man, this _monster_, has killed all over this quadrant. For _years_. He's a ghost. No one has ever even gotten a description of him. We do. It's not much, but it's more than anyone else has."

"As to protecting this parish, I've done that. With my blood, the blood of good men and women brave enough to wear a badge, and even the blood of my own people. You want my job? Any of you? All of you?" He stared down the table at them.

"Have yourself a vote, then. Right here, right now. Confidence, or no confidence. You vote no confidence, I'll resign at the end of the day, and be gone. I got better things to do than be a whippin' post for a rabid dog."

The room was stone silent. Triple was red-faced after the 'rabid dog' comment, rightly assuming it was meant for her.

"I'm tired," Mal told them. "I came back to work too early, the doc tells me. I've worked long hours, and weeks without a day off. I hurt every time I move. No, I hurt _worse_ when I move, on account o' I hurt all the time. I don't take the pain meds they give me because I need a clear head to do my job."

"And on top of all that," his voice dripped with scorn, "I gotta listen to _this_!" he pointed to Triple. "So take your vote. I'll abide with whatever you decide. But remember this," he warned. "When things are back like they used to be, with crime rampant, and no one doing anything about it, don't come to me for help. I won't be that stupid again."

"Malcolm," Braz started, but Mal cut him off.

"No, Braz. I mean it. No debatin', and no waitin'. I really wanna know, now, what the deal is. The next thing I expect ta hear is you callin' for the vote, bein' as you're the chair of the commission." Braz Guilford looked as if he'd been punched in the stomach. Harmon Fuller didn't look much better.

Mal really had had enough, they realized. Braz looked around the table, and cleared his throat.

"The commission is all present here, and now," he said clearly. "The item before us in question is a vote of confidence, or no confidence, on the subject of Malcolm Reynolds, sheriff of Bickford Parish. A vote of 'aye' shall indicate confidence in the sheriff to fulfill his duties and obligations to the citizens of this parish. A vote of 'nay' shall indicate a vote of no confidence in the same." He looked around the table again, noting the shocked, and in a few cases angry, faces.

"All in favor?" he called. Eight commissioners voted 'aye'.

"All oppose," he asked, observing the formality. Two voted 'nay'.

"The item is decided. This commission has voted their confidence in Sheriff Malcolm Reynolds. I do believe that will be all." The Commissioners rose, several coming to shake hands with Mal, and offer their support. Triple wasn't among them, of course. When all but Mal, Braz and Harm Fuller were gone, Braz looked at Mal.

"That was risky, Malcolm," he said evenly. "And I don't appreciate being spoken to like that," he added.

"I don't either," Mal said darkly. "And it weren't meant for either of you, and you know it. You've always been behind me." Fuller turned red at that, knowing that, for him, it wasn't true. Mal waved the unspoken comment aside.

"Extenuatin' circumstances," he grinned darkly. Fuller nodded, saying nothing.

"Still," Braz said, "that should have been handled better."

"I ain't got time, or the patience for better," Mal shot back. "Once this is over, regardless of catchin' him or not, I'm resignin' anyway. I'm tired o' this crap, and I don't need it." Both men looked shocked.

"Surely you don't mean that," Fuller spoke first.

"Why not?" Mal challenged. "I meant what I said. All that me and mine have suffered here, mostly on account o' tryin to make this a better place to be, for us _and_ for all o' you, and this is what I get for it?" he waved his hands to the now empty chairs. "Why bother? I didn't never hear tell o' Grippen havin' ta go through this. Him being such an upstandin' citizen and all." Mal was tired, and in pain. He didn't hold anything back.

Both men looked shame-faced at that. It was true. No one had ever demanded better of Grippen, even Braz. And he had almost lost his livelihood because of Grippen. The two men looked at each other, and then back at Mal.

"I wish you would hold off on your decision to resign," Fuller said quietly. "Please," he added. "Don't punish everyone because of a few."

"Ain't lookin' ta _punish_ anyone," Mal shook his head. "I just ain't gonna keep on like this. Not no more. I been under a shotgun since I took the job. Time for someone else to get shot at. I did mine, and a little more. Got the scars, and the disability to show for it." That hit home with both men.

"Please don't mention that to anyone else, at least for now," Braz asked. "As a favor to me, if nothing else. Let us see what can be done." Mal eyed the man cautiously for a moment, then nodded, slowly.

"All right," he sighed. "I'm tuckered out from arguin' anyway. I'm taking the rest o' the day off. And tomorrow too. Make me a long weekend. I'll let you know what I decide on Monday, or so."

"That's fair enough," Braz nodded, and Fuller agreed.

"Have a good weekend, Mal," Fuller offered. "And get some rest."

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Mal frowned as he pulled his car into the driveway. He recognized the truck as one of Guilford's, but . . . .

"I forgot the movers," Mal groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. "Jayne'll be some pissed, I guess. Not to mention Inara." He parked out of the way, and got out. _Ai ya_ but he was hurting.

Idly, he looked at the house again. Could he pay for that place with what he made on the ships? Maybe, he allowed. He really didn't know, since Inara took care of all the finances. She had said they were in good shape, but that was before she'd gone to Astra on a buying spree.

_I can't take all this away from her_, he thought bleakly. _If'n I can't make it without the job, I'll just have to stick it out. At least until her school's makin' it's way. Maybe after that. . . ._

He shook that off, and walked inside.

"Well, look who's here, just as all the heavy liftin's done," Jayne snarked when he saw Mal walk in. "Oh, by the way, Mal, them movers? Great fellas. They was so quiet we couldn't even tell they was here!"

"Quiet," River elbowed him. "Hello _Baba_," she smiled at Mal. "How are you?"

"I'm rode hard and put away wet, 'Tross," he smiled in return, but it was a tired smile. Inara frowned at that.

"Mal are you okay?" she asked.

"Just tired, _bao bei_," he kissed her lightly. "That's all. Looks like you went to town," he added, looking at the house. It was a showpiece. _Definitely gonna need to keep workin'_.

"Well, there's a story to that," Inara said, and River blushed a bit. Jayne just grinned.

"I'll send ya my bill fer movin' services," he jibed. "May have some spinal damage. Ain't sure."

"You _will_ have, if you don't shush," River warned, worried about Mal. Jayne suddenly realized that Mal didn't look so good.

"You okay, Mal?" he asked, moving toward him. Just in time to catch his boss as he melted toward the floor.

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"He's exhausted," Simon said simply, after having examined Mal. Jayne had carried him up to the new bed, laying him gently atop it. River and Inara had undressed him while Jayne had contacted Simon. With no one at the plant to fly a shuttle, Simon had had to make the trip in a ground car. Toby had ordered a unit to the plant to pick him up, and thirty hair raising minutes with the elder Greggs boys had found Simon at the house.

"Are you sure that's all?" Inara asked worriedly.

"Fairly certain, in fact," Simon nodded, holding up a bottle of pills. "There are less than ten missing from the bottle. I gave him these the day you left. He should have been taking four a day. Do the math," he sighed, tossing the bottle on the stand beside the bed.

"His stubbornness is legendary," Inara sighed. She had been frantic when Mal had collapsed. If River and Jayne hadn't been there, she had no idea what might have happened.

But it had been Chelsa who had been the one in the middle of things. Calmly, though she too was scared, she had done everything she could for Mal until Simon arrived. Simon looked at her.

"Very good work, Chelsa," he told her. "I'm proud of you." The girl beamed in spite of the concern she still had for her adopted grandfather.

"What does he need?" Jayne asked.

"Bed rest, and plenty of it," Simon shrugged. "He needs at least a week off his feet. He needs fluids, and he needs some pain free time. Pain is a constant stress on the body, even when sleeping. I've given him a shot that should keep him sleeping until sometime tomorrow. The fluids I've started him on will likely force him awake for a bathroom call, but he'll still be woozy, and should go immediately back to sleep afterward."

"You'll need help taking care of him," Simon warned Inara.

"Reckon I'll be here," Mrs. Blalock spoke quietly. "I'll help." Inara smiled at her in thanks.

"I'll stay too," Chelsa volunteered. "I can help." Jayne looked pensive for a moment, then nodded. River smiled.

"You can stay, but you musn't take any chances."

"I'll stay," Liam said firmly. "I'll watch." Jayne looked at the boy for a long time, then nodded. A man's nod. Liam almost blushed in pride.

"Is that necessary?" Inara asked. "You're welcome to stay, Liam, of course. But is it necessary?"

"Mal ain't able to protect himself right now, let alone all o' you," Jayne told her honestly. "He needs rest. Liam can make sure you ain't got no problems that might force Mal outta bed." Inara looked at Jayne, then at River. Neither looked as if they would relent.

"Very well," she sighed. "We only have one other room up here, though," she frowned.

"I'll be downstairs anyway, ma'am," Liam told her softly. "Ain't nothin' you need me for up here. And if'n you do, I ain't far away."

"Will you see to the rooms, Mrs. Blalock?" Inara asked.

"Right away," the older woman nodded, leaving.

"We'll help," Chelsa called, and drug Liam away.

"Jayne are you sure this is all needful?" Simon asked.

"No idea," Jayne admitted. "Can't hurt, though." Neither Simon nor Inara could find fault with that logic.

"I'll have River fly me up in the morning to check him again," Simon told Inara, as he put away his things. "I showed you how to change the bag, and in any case, Chelsa knows everything she needs to in order to care for him during the night. He _will_ be all right, Inara," he told her, when she didn't look convinced. "He just needs rest."

"Went back to work too soon," River nodded. "Wanted to be on the job, with bad things happening."

"Bad things weren't happening when he went back, River," Inara sighed. "Had he waited until they were, we might not be in this situation tonight."

"I'm afraid that's true," Simon agreed. "Look, I hate to leave, but I have to get back. I left patients waiting." He looked once more at Mal, then turned back to Inara.

"If anything happens during the night, call. River can have me here in twenty minutes. Without endangering my life," he added drily, thinking of the high speed run with the Greggs boys. "Those two are a threat to every person on the road," he murmured, not for the first time since he arrived.

"Toby told'em burn the engine out, if needed," Jayne shrugged. "And they wouldn't let nothin' happen to the man that saved their ma," he added, just a hint of pride in his voice. Simon grinned slightly.

"There is that," he agreed. Everyone went downstairs.

"We'll see you tomorrow," River promised.

"All right. Thank you again," Inara smiled. "For everything."

She watched until the truck was gone, then closed the door. After a moment's thought, she locked it.

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"Well, you're all set," Haimes told Deputy Reeves. "For the record, I have to say that this voluntary, and you have no obligation to place yourself at such risk."

"We've already got it set up," Reeves shrugged. "Might as well give it a try."

"The apartment next to yours has a listening post set up. Three men on duty at all times. The windows are wired for alarm in the event someone tries to enter there."

"You'll be followed to and from the building every morning. Your list of clubs is made out. You'll visit a different one each night, with people already in position before you arrive." He sighed, rubbing his face. He hadn't been getting much sleep either.

"Stick to the schedule," he warned, finally. "If you don't, we'll know something is wrong. No wildcatting." Reeves nodded.

"All right, then. Time to get going."

Reeves looked totally different now. Her hair was a slightly darker color, and was worn in a modern fashion rather than simply pulled into a functional pony tail. She was wearing a dress, rather than her normal pantsuit, and was showing a good deal more skin than normal. She was also wearing glasses, which helped obscure her face a bit more. There was always a chance the killer had seen her at any of the scene's.

"I wouldn't recognize you, if I passed you on the street," Bonds smiled. "You'll fit right in."

"Okay, it's quitting time in the clerk's office," Haimes noted. "You aren't a deputy anymore, you're a nine-to-five civil servant. Time to take off."

Without another word, Reeves took off. She walked briskly down the hallway, looking furtively at her watch. As if she were tiffed at being kept late. She passed the janitor in the hallway, never giving him a glance. Had she bothered to look back as she got on the elevator, she would have noted the janitor studying her. Very carefully.

Whistling.

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"Any word about Mal?" Blade asked, as she and Wart walked into Toby's office.

"Inara called," Toby nodded. "He's exhausted, 'cordin' to Simon. Needs a rest. Ain't been takin' his pain meds, neither. Said they fog him up. And he's been catchin' hell from that sow, Triple." He frowned darkly at that.

"How so?" Wart asked. That was news to them.

"She's been on him about the Slasher, not bein' married, not protectin' the citizens, not havin' the right 'moral turpitude', whatever the hell that means these days. You name it, the old heifer has used it."

"Lotsa folks ain't married," Wart shrugged. Including him and Blade, he didn't add.

"She's one o' them 'holier than thou' types," Toby explained. "Most of her district is, too. Don't like the idea that someone in Bickford might be a sinnin'," Toby snorted. "Didn't see'em makin' all this fuss when Grip was sheriff, though."

"Likely scared of him," Blade pointed out. "That's how folks like that usually is. They'll only attack someone they know won't attack them back."

"Well, from what I hear, Mal did," Toby shrugged. "Threatened to resign before the whole commission. Word I got, he aims to do it anyway, once all this is ended."

Blade thought about that. Where would that leave her and Wart? Not to mention Ping and Rolo. They'd gave up their merc work to hire out to Mal. What would they do, happen he quit being the sheriff?

"Well, we can likely get a good work recommendation," Wart sighed. "Might find more law work somewhere else." He had grow used to being in once place all the time. He didn't make as much, but he lived better.

"Hey, don't go quittin' or nothin'," Toby looked at them in near shock. "I aim to try and get him to stay, and I know that several of the commissioners will. And the folks, too. People like Mal. Trust and respect him. It ain't over till it's over."

"It's still prudent that we plan for what might happen," Blade said evenly. "When we accepted the job, it meant giving up a lot, including one of our team members. I admit, he ain't a big loss, but we've been outta the game for a while. I hate like hell tryin' to get started again."

"Like I said, it ain't over til it's over."

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Later that night, Blade looked at the three men who made up her family. Wart, Ping and Rolo were there, waiting to hear what she had to say.

"This Triple bitch is makin' things hard on Mal," she told them flat out. "That affects us. He goes, we ain't likely to be kept on. We need to decide, now, whether we want to stay, or if it's okay with us if we end up headin' out."

Even though they now officially worked for Mal, Blade was still the Boss.

"I'm for stayin'," Wart said at once. "Like it here."

"Me too," Rolo nodded. Ping also nodded, but didn't speak.

"Okay then," Blade grinned evilly. "This Triple woman, she's a holy roller. Likes to look down on us poor sinners. Every one I ever met or knew, had a secret they didn't want told. Or known. She likely ain't no different. Find it." The others nodded.

Triple liked to play dirty. That was fine by them.

They _loved _to play dirty.

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"Whu. . .wah. . ." Inara stirred awake at once as Mal tried to speak. She reached for a cup of water with a straw in it, and held it up for him. He drank greedily from it. With his mouth wet, he tried again.

"What happened, 'Nara?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"You passed out, is what happened," Inara told him. She'd had plenty of time the night before to cry. Now, she was angry. A little, anyway.

"I did?"

"You did," Inara nodded firmly. "You've been working too many hours, without enough sleep. You haven't been taking your pain medication. Don't interrupt me!" she said sharply as Mal started to say something. His mouth snapped shut audibly.

"You're exhausted," she continued. "Simon was here, and said that you were confined to bed rest for at least a week. You were partially dehydrated, and your blood pressure was elevated, likely from being in constant pain. So you're stuck here until he says you can go. _Dong ma_?"

"Inara, I gotta work. . . ." he tried again.

"Not for at least a week you aren't," she told him flatly.

"Lotta pressure on me, _bao bei_," he told her. "Might wind up havin' to resign. If that happens, we may have to sell the house!"

"I don't care," Inara replied. "You said you would give up everything for me, Mal. Was that true?" she demanded.

"'Course it was!" Mal replied, looking hurt.

"Well, I would for you, too," Inara's face softened. "This house, my school, none of it means a damn thing without you to share it with. Nothing. So you _will_ rest, you _will not_ be doing any 'sheriffy' things, and you _will_ be taking your medication. Are we clear on that?" Mal studied her for a moment. He'd never seen her quite like this. He found himself liking it.

"You're gonna make a helluva school mistress, _ai ren_," he found himself smiling. "And yes, we're clear on all that. But. . . ."

"But me, no buts!" Inara shook her head.

"_But_," Mal said again, "I gotta go to the head." Inara looked taken aback by that.

"Oh, well, okay," she nodded, pulling the blanket back. "I'll help you."

"I think I can manage that on my. . . ." Mal started, but before he could get to his feet, he was sitting again. He didn't seem to have the strength to get up.

"Okay, maybe I might need some help," he sighed. "Please?"

"C'mon," Inara smiled, shaking her head. "What am I going to do with you, Malcolm Reynolds?"

"Keep me?"

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Reeves was sitting at a table, alone, in a club called 'Grapes'. It was very similar to the clubs the two known victims went missing from. She'd been there for three hours, mingling with the dancers, carefully nursing three drinks over that time. She couldn't ask for water, since that would be a dead give away.

Sighing in defeat, she looked at her watch. Nearly midnight, and the club would be closing. She carefully got to her feet, mimicking someone who'd had slightly too much to drink, and headed for the door.

_Couldn't expect to catch him on the first night_, she told herself. _Just be patient_. She walked 'home', still in her act, hoping he might be watching.

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_He _was_ watching. He smiled as he observed the deputy that was _

_supposed to be 'trolling' for him. Normally, he would just leave, at this point. In this case, however, he decided to make an exception. He did so love a challenge._

_Oh, and what a _coup_ this would be, he thought to himself. Taking out a Marshal who was aiming to take me out. It was enough to make him laugh._

_She'd have to be taught a lesson, of course. They all would. He simply couldn't have them thinking he was that dumb. It was insulting. Demeaning. _

_He didn't bother to follow her all the way 'home'. He knew where she was staying already. It was, he admitted, a nicely set trap, considering it was done on such short notice._

_He already had a plan in place. He'd work on it tomorrow. The day after, he decided, would be a good time. She would already be letting her guard down. _

_Day after tomorrow, he nodded. Then, he headed to his own place._

_Busy day tomorrow._


	16. Chapter 16

Sins of the Past – Chapter Sixteen

When I first came up with the idea for _Firefly_, I. . .Oh, wait. I _didn't_ come up with it. I keep forgetting. It was the whedon guy. He owns it all, except the original stuff. Oh, and I'm not gettin' paid for this Joss. Though if you wanna throw some money my way. . . . .

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"Brazelton, I need to speak with you." Braz sighed, recognizing the whining voice. He was just leaving the Parish Administration Building from a meeting with several department heads.

"Yes, Marge?" he asked, doing his best to smile.

"I haven't seen anything on the budget for the beautification project in my district," Triple said. "I want to know when we can expect the work to start."

"It won't be starting, not in this budget year, anyway," Braz managed not to smile in triumph. That was one of the things he'd been discussing in his meetings this morning.

"What?" Triple shrilled. "That project is important to my district!"

"It's not as important as the water lines out toward Smith Fork," Braz shrugged. "Nor the Civic building at the Parish Fairgrounds. Those projects take precedent over planting new trees and shrubs, I'm afraid."

"I've already assured my constituents that the project was going to happen!" Triple exclaimed. "You can't just change that!"

"It's already been changed, Marge," Braz told her. "All projects of that sort take a back seat to needed and necessary repairs and upkeep. You know that. It's in the bill."

"I won't stand for this!" Triple shrilled. "I demand. . . ."

"Your days of demanding are coming to an end, Marge," Braz said simply. With that he turned and walked out of the building, leaving her nearly screaming at him not to walk away when she was talking to him.

He managed to keep from smiling until he was outside.

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Reeves walked to the elevator in her building, on her way to 'work'. She would pick up her escort outside, having checked in with the team in the apartment next door. She didn't really see the need for all of that, since it was unlikely she would encounter the killer in the day time. Still, rules were rules, and she had promised.

She stopped at the lift, surprised to see that it was out of order. Sighing in dejection, she started for the stairs. She was on the third floor, of course. She hoped the thing was repaired by the time she got home.

_Today is Friday_, she thought to herself. It wasn't completely likely that the repair would be done today. Shaking her head, she walked down to the second floor, where she bumped into a man wrestling a roll of carpet into the hallway.

"Elevator is down," she told the man, assuming he was the maintenance man.

"Don't I know it," the sweating man replied. "Figure they'll get it fixed as soon as I'm done luggin' all this carpet up here on the stairs."

"Probably," she sighed, continuing on her way. She rang the super's door, but there was no answer. She'd try again on her way in from work, she decided.

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"That was some fine breakfast," Mal smiled, setting his tray aside. "Mrs. Blalock is a fine cook."

"Yes, she is," Inara smiled. She was sitting in a chair near the bed, reading. There were a surprising number of regulations for anything that amounted to a boarding school, she was learning.

"I guess I just get to sit here, do I?" Mal asked. Inara looked at him over the top of the book in her hand.

"If you behave today, I'll let you sit on the veranda tomorrow, so long as Simon approves."

"Simon approves what?" Simon asked, walking into the room. River followed him, then Liam, carrying a large box of supplies.

"I was telling Mal that if he behaved, I'd ask if he could sit on the veranda tomorrow," Inara smiled, rising to her feet.

"So long as he's sitting. I imagine it would be nice to sit out there and read. Provided it's nothing work related," he warned, pointing a stiff finger at Mal.

"Not even the paper," Mal promised. "I'll read a book. I'm sure 'Nara's got somethin' ain't too borin'." Inara sighed theatrically, but smiled none-the-less. Several hours sleep seemed to have done Mal a great deal of good.

Simon checked Mal's blood pressure and other vitals, then drew some blood. "For tests," he explained, when Mal frowned.

"Look, Mal," Simon said sternly. "You were nearly at the end of your rope last night. And though you feel better today, you _aren't_. Not really. I guarantee you'll be tired again in two hours, tops. You _have_ to take it easy, or I can't promise you that you won't wind up back in the hospital."

"I promised, didn't I?" Mal asked, petulantly.

"_Baba_ is like a child today," River teased. "Pouting."

"I am _not_ pouting," Mal said stubbornly, folding his arms over his chest, bottom lip sticking out slightly. This elicited laughter from everyone. Except Mal.

"Everything looks good," Simon said at last. "Have you taken your meds?"

"Yes, mother," Mal sighed.

"Mal. . . ."

"I said I would, and I am," Mal held up his hands in surrender. "I'll be a good boy. Promise."

"Well, so long as you're not feeling any worse tomorrow, you can sit outside, once it warms up. I'd rather you didn't set out in the morning chill. The damp air isn't good for you right now."

"I'll make sure it's warm before he goes out," Inara assured him. "And he'll have a blanket while he's out."

"Excellent," Simon grinned. "Well, I have to get back. I won't visit again until Monday unless you need me. But if you need me, don't hesitate to call. I'd rather make the trip on a false alarm than not be here when you need me."

"Simon, seriously," Mal sighed. "Am I that bad off?"

"You _will_ be, if you don't do what I'm telling you now," Simon nodded. "You're on the edge, Mal. Much more like what you're going through now, and it could permanently damage your heart. You could have a stroke. I'm trying my best to keep that from happening."

"A _stroke?_" Mal almost screeched. Simon nodded, pleased that he had gotten Mal's attention. Finally.

"Yes, Mal. Your blood pressure was very high last night. Too high. You don't have a blood pressure problem. Yet, anyway. The problem last night was a combination of exhaustion, pain, and _stress_. You need to relax, rest, and heal. If you don't Mal, you could end up in serious trouble."

Mal absorbed all this in silence, pondering what Simon had told him. He hadn't imagined things were that bad. He'd known he was tired, or course. And he had hurt beyond all reason for days on end. But never had he even thought about the possibility that he might end up having a stroke or heart attack. Not even once. He looked at Inara, and realized for the first time why she was so insistent. Why everyone had been so worried.

"I'm sorry, Inara," he said at last. "I shoulda. . .I'm sorry." He looked at the rest. "All of you, I'm sorry. I just didn't realize. I. . . ."

"It's all right _Baba_," River smiled, kissing his cheek. "We still love you." Mal almost teared up at that.

"I love you too, 'Tross," he smiled. "All of you. Some more than others, o' course," he added, looking at Inara again. Her smile was so bright that Mal thought it would rival the sun.

"Well, on that happy note, we'll be going," Simon smiled, relieved that Mal was finally taking things seriously.

"Thank you, Simon, for coming," Inara said, walking with them to the door.

"I'm always happy to, Inara," Simon told her truthfully. "You're my family," he added simply. "You're all family. All that I have. I'd do anything for any of you. Even Jayne," he grinned. Until River slapped him in the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"Not to say bad things about the brother-in-law," she warned. "Has been very good to you."

"To all of us," Inara agreed. "You two take care."

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"Any word from that bunch in Mount Talmidge?" Blade asked Toby. The investigator shook his head.

"Not a word. All's I know is that Reeves went undercover."

"Really?" Blade asked, her tone of voice indicating what she thought of that idea. Mal and Toby had been _very_ careful to keep Reeves away from their resident female bad ass.

"Yup. I figure she thinks if she can take the guy down, it's a straight shot to the top of the service."

"And willing to risk her life on it?" Blade snorted.

"I don't think she realizes what she's laid herself open for," Toby shrugged. "I really think she thinks she can take the guy all on her own."

"She's wrong."

"So I figure. We'll see what it costs her to find out."

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Reeves blew a stray hair out of her eyes, and let out a long sigh. This part of the plan she could do without. But, it was necessary. They had no idea what the guy looked like. He might just waltz in here, no one the wiser. If he happened by, he needed to see her here, working.

_I don't know how these people cope with all this crap_, she thought to herself. _And I'm only getting the 'busy work'_, she reminded herself.

She glanced at the clock. _Are you kidding me? Three more hours?_

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Bonds was just getting home. His shift was over, at long last. He was wore out from sitting and doing nothing for twelve solid hours. Tomorrow he'd be in the surveillance van all day.

_Even better_, he groaned mentally. _Stale coffee, cold food, no bathroom, and someone will always forget to wear deodorant._

Such was life in the Marshal's service. He hit the bed and was asleep before he could form another thought.

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The three deputies in the apartment next door had it both better, and worse, than the others. The better was the fact that they were comfortable, had access to a bathroom, and basically had only to monitor the surveillance systems in Reeves' apartment front.

The worse was that it left them with nothing to do. All day and all night. In theory they were supposed to be working in shifts, with at least two of them always awake. That had worked for all of eight hours.

Since then, they had taken to turning the alarms up loud, and crashing out whenever Reeves was away from the apartment. No one, they reasoned, could possibly enter the apartment without sounding the silent alarms, which would ring into their room, thus waking them up.

No problems.

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Reeves wanted to scream for joy when the clock said she could finally leave. It was no problem for her to fit into her character. She _was_ a harried clerk, ready to go home for the weekend.

Tonight she would be going to a different club. What was it? Avalanche. Yeah, that was it. What a name for a club. She would go home and relax for a little while before venturing out. There were only a few days left until she'd be reassigned.

_If he doesn't strike soon, I'll lose my chance,_ she told herself, walking home. _I've worked so hard. Waited so long. I deserve this!_ That was how she justified everything she had done. Not just on this particular case, but any of them. It was cutthroat world, and only the rising star got noticed. Once she bagged the Slasher, she'd be that rising star.

She would be a media darling, she knew. Reeves knew she was attractive, though she worked to hide it, since it tended to make the men think she was just wall paper. They would love her. An attractive woman who could capture a crazed killer.

_Instant promotion_! she smiled to herself. Yes, this would be great.

If the Slasher would only help her out, just a little.

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"Are you kidding me?" Reeves said aloud, although there was no one nearby to hear. The elevator was _still _out of order. She walked briskly to the super's door, banging much harder this time. After five minutes she decided he wasn't home, _again_, and huffed up the stairs.

_On top of everything else_! she thought. _I have to take the damn stairs._

As she approached the second floor landing, she saw the carpet man wrestling his way out, this time.

"Elevator is still out," she told him, moving to the side to walk around him.

"I know," the man replied without looking up.

Just as she passed him, Reeves felt a pinprick on her neck. She started to turn, but never made it. She collapsed on the floor as if every bone in her body had turned to water. Her last thought was simple.

_I'm in trouble. . . . ._

The carpet repair man rolled her into the carpet, flung it over his shoulder, and headed to the elevator. Whistling.

It worked when he hit the button. How about that?

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"What do you mean, you 'lost her'?" Bonds demanded. He had been awakened by the harsh shrilling of his telephone. Glancing at the clock on his desk, he realized it was after seven in the evening.

"I mean she entered the building, but never made it to her apartment," the deputy in charge of the night shift told him frantically.

"And you only just now realized she's gone?" he fought to stay calm, hurriedly dressing as he spoke.

"Well. . . ."

"Well, _what_?" Bonds voice was deadly calm.

"Well. . .the guys in the apartment next door were sleeping," the other man informed him. "They were counting on the alarms to wake them when she got home. They woke up around six, and realized she wasn't in the apartment. That's when they contacted the trail team, and realized they were still waiting for her outside."

"They were sleeping," Bonds repeated, as if he couldn't quite grasp what he was being told. "We sent a deputy in harm's way, and their one and only job was to observe that apartment. And you're telling me that she's missing, and that they were _asleep when she was taken!_"

"Uh, yeah. I already bawled them out for that. We're trying to. . . ."

"Bawled them out?" bonds interrupted. "_Bawled them out!_ They allowed an undercover deputy to be abducted right under their noses, and you say you've already _bawled them out_! You. . . .I'm on the way. Have you contacted Haimes?"

"Well, I figured you'd want to tell him, seeing as how. . . ."

"Oh, no," Bonds fought the urge to scream. It wouldn't help Isabel. "You let this happen. You call him. _Right now!_ I'm on my way." He cut the other man off, finished dressing, and was out of his apartment in less than two minutes.

_I told you this was a bad idea, Isabel_, he anguished as he raced to the scene. _Why didn't you listen?_

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The scene was one of confusion. Men were everywhere, looking for any sign of Reeves. Or just something that might indicate what had happened to her. Bonds ignored all that, heading straight for the surveillance van. When he got there, he found Haimes, in the process of questioning the night shift supervisor.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. The Chief was rattled. He had taken this on his own authority, and would soon have to call his own superior. He wasn't happy.

"I want to see the surveillance tapes," Bonds replied, taking a seat before a row of monitors.

"What good will that do?" Haimes demanded.

"He got her out of the building, somehow," Bonds replied over his shoulder, calling up the last few hours of video on the computer. "We have to find it." He ignored the protests that the men had been watching and the record would show nothing they hadn't seen.

Bonds watched the entire thing twice in fast forward. He couldn't waste time playing at real speed. The second time, he watched as a man struggled outside with a roll of carpet. Frowning, he backed up, watching again.

"What do you see?" Haimes demanded.

"That looks awful heavy for a roll of carpet," Bonds mused. "Anyone contact the super of the building? See if there was any carpet repair scheduled for the building?"

"We tried to contact him, but not about the carpet," the other deputy nodded. "That guy was here yesterday, too. We assumed he was. . . ."

"You _assumed_?" Haimes almost screamed. "Are you completely stupid?" The other man wisely didn't respond to that.

"We need to find this van," Bonds said, standing. "From what I've seen, this is our best bet. There's no other way I saw that he could have gotten her out of the building. Though for all we know, he just threw her over his shoulder," he added, shooting a withering glance at the other deputy. Ignoring the protests, Bonds called the Mount Talmidge PD, and asked them to BOLO the carpet truck. That done, he headed for his own car.

"Where are you going?" Haimed demanded. Bonds spun toward him.

"That was my partner. My _friend_!" he shot back. "I'm going to try and find her before that mad man gets her out of the city. Once he does, she's as good as dead. I don't want the next time I see her to be when she's found lying in some field, cut all to pieces."

With that, ignoring anything else Haimes had to say, Bonds got in his car, and left. There had been a name on that carpet truck. He had the business address. Good a place as any to start.

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It took an hour to find the stolen truck. Bonds was the second man on the scene. No one had opened the van. Bonds ignored the protests of local officers waiting for a crime scene unit, and opened the rear doors. It was empty. Just as he was turning away from the vehicle, a glint of metal caught his eye.

Reaching into the truck, he pulled the glinting object out of the vehicle. He looked at it, closing his eyes in defeat.

In his hands was Isabel Reeves' badge.

She was gone.

He got back in his car, and headed south at breakneck speed. Calling Bickford Parish even as he drove.

_Maybe we can still find her_, he thought bleakly. _And if we can't then maybe we can at least catch the bastard that took her. Please, don't let it be for nothing_.

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Toby Bontrager was sitting in his favorite chair, about to watch one of his favorite movies when his phone rung in. He eyed the device with trepidation, reaching out at least to answer it.

"Detective," the dispatcher said tonelessly, "there's a wave transfer for you from a Marshal Bonds."

_Well, I guess Reeves is gone_, Toby thought, his eyes closing for a second. He had known it was a bad idea.

"Detective?"

"Put him through," Toby ordered.

"Toby? Hiram. He got her." Toby could hear the anguish in Bonds' voice. He felt for the man.

"How long ago?" he asked, standing and heading for his bedroom.

"At least four hours ago." Toby could hear the anger in the other man's tone.

"What?"

"The damned surveillance team was _asleep_!" Bonds exclaimed. "The bastard took her and walked right by them!"

"What do you need from us?" Toby asked. There was no point in further questions about what had happened.

"I need you patrolling. Searching for any sign he's trying to bring her into Bickford. I don't know if he will or not. There's no way to trace her, since she only wore her beacon when she was out at night. Working in the building caused too much interference with it in the day time."

"He may well still be in Mount Talmidge, you know," Toby pointed out. "We've never even figured out where he. . .where he does what he does." Toby was unable to bring himself to say it aloud.

"I know," Bonds replied. "But it's the best I can do."

"Can you get a Marshal's shuttle down here to help?" Toby asked. "I'll see if I can get River to help with one of theirs."

"I'm on it right now," Bonds agreed. "Thanks Toby."

"Sure thing." The line went dead. Toby quickly called the dispatcher, and had her initiate the emergency call-up for all personnel. Then he called River Cobb.

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"Of course we'll help," River said at once. "We can only use one of the shuttles, I'm afraid. I'm the only pilot."

"I'll take any help I can get," Toby admitted. "Bonds is gonna get a Marshal's shuttle too. We'll have every unit we got on the road within the hour, but it's a lotta territory."

"We'll be airborne in just a few minutes. Jayne and I will patrol for you. Put your deputies on the ground to cover more area. If we happen to see him, we can take him."

"River I. . .are you sure?"

"Yes," the little woman said firmly. "Now, I have to go. I'll call in when we're in the air." She broke the wave, and called Jayne. He was there in seconds. She explained briefly.

"We'll take a shuttle, and help them search from the air," River finished. Jayne nodded.

"Works for me. Gimme a minute." He hurried off to get his gear.

Five minutes later they were in the air.

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Jayne looked pensive to say the least. They had been in the air for three hours, seeing nothing but dark country side. He had his own Night Vision Gear (_of course_, River thought, though she had been unaware of it until now) and used it too scan the area all around them. Bontrager had waved them two hours ago with the news that a Marshal's shuttle was also over the parish, and he had divided the northern areas between them and River's shuttle.

"Ain't no real tellin' when he might try and bring her down," Jayne sighed, rubbing his eyes. With just the two of them on board, he had to do all the looking. River kept the shuttle interior dark to help with his eye strain.

"I know," she replied softly. Jayne was tense, she knew.

"Of all the stupid _gorram_ ideas," he muttered. River didn't point out that he and the others had used the same idea, years before. Or that the set-up itself had worked both times.

"We've finished this grid," she said instead, banking the shuttle to the west to start again. "We'll head a bit more north, I think. Follow the roads for a while. We could get lucky," she shrugged.

"Take more than luck," Jayne told her. He never-the-less raised the NVG's back to his eyes. He might not think they had a chance at success, but he was still willing to do his part.

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"No."

"Inara," Toby sighed in frustration, "I'm not wantin' him to come and _help_. He just needs to be aware. . . ."

"No," Inara repeated, shaking her head. "He can't help you anyway, Toby. He's on doctor ordered bed rest. All this will do is upset him, and I will not allow it. Period." Inara's voice was flat and final.

"Well, when he gets mad, it's on you, then," he told her bluntly. Inara smiled.

"I'm sure it will be. The answer is still no. Mal's health is a real threat to him at the moment, Toby. Try and understand," she added, kinder.

"I do," Toby nodded. "It's just. . .he's the boss, Inara. He's gonna wanna know," he shrugged helplessly.

"He will, when he's able. And that's not today. I really am sorry, Toby, for what it's worth. But I will not risk his health and well being any more. He's been through quite enough of late, and had nothing but strife to show for it." Her voice turned hard at that.

"I know," Toby nodded in agreement. "We all threatened to resign if he did. Likely will, if'n he quits."

"What?" Inara was shocked. She hadn't heard that.

"It's just the way it is," Toby shrugged again. "We ain't willin' to go back to the way things used ta be. If he goes, we all go. There's plenty o' jobs around. We'll all find work doin' something."

"That would be a bad thing for the community," Inara said thoughtfully.

"Can't be helpin' that," Toby told her flatly. "Listen, I have to go. The main thing I wanted was to tell Mal about Reeves, and that Jayne and River are using one o' their shuttles to help search from the air. Mal said it was okay, but I hate usin' his people without him knowin'."

"Well, I can approve the use of the shuttle," Inara told him. "And so long as Jayne and River are willing, I would never tell them no, anyway. So that's fine. As far as Reeves? There's nothing he can do but worry, and the stress could send him into a stroke or heart attack. It's simply not going to happen."

"I. . .I didn't know it was that bad," Toby was taken aback by that.

"No one else, outside the family, knows it either," Inara told him. "If we can't trust you, however, we can't trust anyone."

"I won't bother you again, then," Toby promised. "If'n we catch him, though, might be it will make him feel better, so I'll call, happens we do."

"That's fine, Toby," Inara nodded. She watched the man return to his car, then closed the door. She jumped when she saw Liam Greggs standing behind the door, leaning on the wall.

"Sorry, ma'am," the young man said contritely. "Just wanted to be nearby, was you to need me."

"Thank you, sweetie," Inara smiled, making Liam blush. He was so young, Inara thought, to have seen and suffered so much. He was taller now, she noted, than when he had first hired on. He had filled out more, as well._ Probably lifting weights with Jayne when they're in the black_, she thought idly.

"Welcome, ma'am," Liam nodded, then eased away, quiet as a ghost. Inara shivered a bit at how quiet he was.

_Like a miniature of Jayne_, she realized with a start. _No wonder Jayne wasn't worried about him guarding the house, or us. Liam's more than capable of doing that job._

Sighing sadly at the necessity, Inara bolted the door and headed upstairs. It was time to relieve Chelsa.


	17. Chapter 17

Sins of the Past – Chapter Seventeen

I don't own Firefly. I make no money doing this. I mean no harm. I come in peace. . . . .

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Isabel Reeves would never know how long she was out. She struggled awake, trying to focus on her surroundings. For a moment, she could remember nothing. Slowly at first, then with more clarity she remembered.

_He got me! It worked!_ The brief adulation she felt, however, gave way to something else.

_Where am I_? She thought, looking around. This was wrong. All wrong! She remembered being hit with some kind of tranquilizer. After that she knew nothing. But her team! They would have been watching her! They should have nabbed the Slasher! She would have been taken to the hospital for treatment and observation.

But this, she realized with horror, was no hospital room.

"Well, well, look who's awake," she heard a mocking voice call. She tried to turn, only then realizing she was bound, hand and foot. She attempted to call out, but heard only a muffled '_mpphh_' through the gag in her mouth. As she writhed trying to free herself, she realized something else.

She was completely naked.

"No point in hurting yourself, or tiring yourself out," the voice told her. "You won't get free. No one ever has Marshal Reeves." Horror flooded through her at that. _He knows my name! Who I am!_

"Oh, yes, I know who and what you are," the voice chuckled cruelly, as if reading her mind. "Very naughty of you, Marshal, trying to set a trap for me. You aren't the first to do so, you know. Far from it, in fact." She felt a hand moving along her bound legs, and tried to squirm away.

"You needn't worry," the voice told her. "I don't do that. It's not what I'm about, you see." The small part of Reeves brain that still functioned normally remembered that none of the victims had been sexually assaulted.

"And anyway," the voice went on conversationally, "I have specific plans for you, my dear. Oh, yes, very specific, very _special_ plans for you. I'm going to make you famous, Marshal. _Famous_!" The voice stopped for a moment, before continuing, much calmer.

"Of course, you won't survive the process," the tone was almost mournful. Mocking. "I would say I'm sorry about that, but. . .well, it would be wrong of me to lie, like that. I do want to thank you, however, for giving me this opportunity. It's very rare that someone just _hands_ me a work like this. Usually I have to labor very hard for it indeed." Reeves shivered as she felt cold metal touching her back.

_Please, please, this isn't how it's supposed to happen_, she closed her eyes. _I was supposed to catch him! I was going to be a hero!_

"Oh, don't worry," he told her, making a small cut on the back of her leg, causing her to scream into the gag. "I'm not going to use you like I have the others. A few small marks, yes, but just for pain, to punish you for thinking of me as so stupid. No, as I said, I have something _special_ in mind for you. Something no one will ever, _ever_, forget."

Reeves sobbed into the gag, her pleas muffled to mere grunts. In any case they fell on deaf ears.

_I should have listened, Hiram_, she thought. _I'm sorry_.

That was her last coherent thought for a very long time.

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River docked the shuttle with _Companion_ with no trouble, despite her fatigue. _Fourteen hours_, she thought numbly. They had been in the air for fourteen hours, returning only when their fuel made them.

_And nothing to show for it but exhaustion,_ River sighed, shutting down the shuttle's systems. She had allowed her mind to range far and wide, searching for anything. She now knew quite a bit more about many of the residents of Bickford Parish than she wanted to, but no sign of Reeves.

"We tried," Jayne said hoarsely. He was tired, too. They had been about to go to bed when the search was called.

"And we will again," River nodded dumbly. "As soon as we rest. I'll have Holly fuel the shuttle."

"I'll git us some grub," Jayne offered. He rose to his feet, stretching his huge frame. River winced at the cracking sounds his body made.

"We'll sleep for six hours, then start again," she told him. Jayne just nodded, heading for the door. He would get them a meal from the canteen at the plant. River called for Holly on the shipwide.

Half an hour later the two were dead asleep, half their meal left uneaten as exhaustion overtook them. Holly would stand watch after the fueling was complete, and wake them when it was time.

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"Anything?" Bonds asked. Toby frowned at the younger man. He was almost out on his feet from exhaustion.

"Not as yet," Toby shook his head. "We're still looking."

"Where's the other shuttle?" Bonds demanded.

"The Cobb's landed about an hour ago. They need to refuel the shuttle, and get some sleep. They've been up for. . . ."

"Sleep? _Sleep?_" Bonds was incredulous. "My partner is out there, maybe dying right now, and they need to _sleep?"_

"You need to calm down, and do it right now," Toby said quietly. Others in the office had stopped what they were doing to stare. "They haven't slept in nearly twenty-four hours. They can't fly when they're give plum out. Mrs. Cobb told me they'd be back in the air in. . ." Toby looked at his watch, "four-and-a-half hours from now."

"Four-and-a-half hours," Bonds murmured bitterly. "I hope they enjoy their nap!" he didn't quite snarl. Toby had had enough.

"Listen to me, you little _diao_," he hissed through clenched teeth. "We told you, and _her_ this was a bad idea. The Cobb's _volunteered_ their time and services for this search. My men have been searching for over twenty straight hours without more than a half-hour break, to eat and maybe sleep twenty minutes before heading back out. And, I'll remind you, it was _your_ men who allowed her to be taken, not _ours_! I don't see one damned Marshal, outside of you, and whoever's flyin' that damned shuttle, out here helpin'. Now you need to take a minute to get your attitude in check before someone jerks a knot in your _pi gu_ that you'll be a week or more gettin' untied. Got that?"

Bonds' face had run a gamut of emotions during Bontrager's tirade. Anger, embarrassment, shame, and back to anger. He wisely kept his mouth shut until he was calmer.

"I just want to find her," he said finally.

"So do we," Toby assured him. "We want her, alive, and we want him, _dead,_ if possible. So get off your high horse, mister." Bonds' face colored again, but he merely nodded, turning back to the map. Toby sighed in frustration, looking around.

"What are ya'll starin' at?" he demanded. Instantly the deputies in the room were very busy. Shaking his head, Toby started for his own office.

"Where is Reynolds?" Bonds asked suddenly. Toby stopped in his tracks, turning slowly.

"He's at home," Toby said evenly. "Sick."

"Sick," Bonds repeated, as if testing the words.

"Don't open your mouth again, Bonds', until your tongue is under control," Toby warned. The Marshal looked as if he was going to say something, but suddenly stopped himself. The other deputies weren't just looking at him now. They were glaring. Wisely, he just shrugged, and turned back to the map.

Toby waited a minute, before walking on to his office.

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Blade and Wart reached the parish border on the main highway from Mount Talmidge, turning up an old farm road. They stopped for a moment, each walking a way into the woods to relieve themselves. Washing up with water from a jug and soap in the rear of their four-wheel drive, they decided to take a brief break. They had sandwiches, and broke two of them out.

"You know we ain't gonna catch him, don't ya?" Wart observed around a mouthful of corned beef. He loved living on an agrarian moon.

"I suspect," Blade nodded. "Still, we ain't losing nothin' by being watchful." Wart grunted in agreement, and continued eating.

"It'd help if we knew more about what he might be drivin'," she went on. "As it is, we're just lookin' for whatever might be suspicious."

"And who knows what that is, under the circumstances?" Wart agreed.

"Shade and Goldie think. . .well, they think we killed the wrong guy, back then," she said.

"Prob'ly," Wart had thought about it, too. "I figure we killed a copy cat, or someone he'd taken as an apprentice, like. He prob'ly saw the trap, and used the idiot to spring it. We were lucky it wasn't worse," he added darkly. Blade nodded absently.

"We thought we knew so much," she said after a while. "Like we had seen it all. How'd we manage to live through all that, Wart? Not just him," she added. "All of it. How'd we stay alive, when so many others didn't?"

"Well, luck for one thing," Wart shrugged. "Sometimes that's all it is. Shell lands one hole over, 'stead o' on you. That sorta thing." He paused, staring out into the field next to them for a while.

"We were pretty good, too," he said after a bit. "Maybe we didn't know all we thought we did. But we was good at what we did. And young enough that we figured we couldn't die." Blade thought about that, then nodded in agreement.

"I don't want to leave here," she said at last. Wart looked at her.

"I don't neither," he admitted. "I like it here. It's a good place to make a home."

"Have a family?" Blade prompted. Wart looked at her in surprise.

"You thinkin' on havin' a young'un?" he asked.

"We ain't gettin' any younger, Peter," she shrugged, using his real name. "Yeah, I guess I have. I don't wanna keep triaspin' 'round the 'verse workin' as a merc. Sometimes I don't even wanna keep being a deputy."

"Wanna buy a farm?" he asked with a grin. It was an old parable, the soldier buying the farm.

"Well," she hesitated. "I guess we could. Just a little place. I hadn't thought about it that far," she admitted.

"Well, the kid and his woman got a ranch," Wart mused. "Likely need some hands. Guess we could work for him a while, learn what we need to know, and then strike out on our own."

"You think?" she asked. "I mean, that we could? We been our own boss for a while."

"We ain't never really been," he pointed out. "Even though we decide who we work for, we still work for _them_. Do things their way, more often than not." Blade looked at him for a moment.

"Y'know, I never thought about it like that," she mused aloud. "I guess you're right. So much for that illusion," she laughed.

"Ain't all an illusion," he shook his head. "We did choose who we worked for, who worked with us. I'm just sayin' that ain't the same as really, truly, bein' your own boss."

"Okay, I get that," Blade nodded. "So. . .you wanna try it?"

"Havin' a place, workin' fer the kid, or havin' a baby?" he asked, face betraying his amusement.

"Any of it, all of it," Blade grinned.

"Whatever you want, Susan, I'm in. You know that," he told her softly. "I'll haul garbage if that's what you want to do." Her face screwed up at that.

"I ain't that determined," she laughed.

"Well, whatever you decide, when you decide, I'm in," he replied with a shrug. "Long as we're together, I don't really care. You know that."

"I don't wanna assume nothin'," she said quietly. "Took you for granted a long time, you gruffy ole boar. I don't aim to do that anymore. Ever again." He smiled at her then, one of his rare, real smiles.

"Take me any way you wanna, woman. I'll never mind."

For just a while, the two warriors were at peace, even with the world around them going crazy.

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River sighed as she and Jayne strapped themselves in. Their brief nap hadn't been near enough, but it would do for now.

"When this is over, I aim ta sleep fer a week," Jayne said tiredly from the seat next to her. River nodded.

"I'll be right next to you," she mumbled, carefully checking everything twice before being satisfied. Tired pilots made mistakes.

"Holly, we'll be disconnecting in five, four, three, two, one," River counted down, and the lifted. The shuttle rose gracefully into the air.

"You're clear, ma'am," Holly called. "Clean separation."

"Thanks, Holly. We'll be back. Hold down the fort."

"You got it boss lady. _Companion_ standing by."

They gained altitude, heading north. Jayne dialed up Mal's office. Evelyn answered.

"Hey there," Jayne smiled. "How's it going?" Evelyn didn't smile back.

"It's tense, to say the least," she told him. "Other than that, nothing. No sign anywhere."

"We're airborne," he told her, nodding. "Tell Toby we're headed north. He want's us somewhere's else, give us a wave."

"I will," she promised. "He's taking a hour nap in his office. Okay if I let him finish?"

"Sure," Jayne nodded. "Wish I was still asleep, myself. See ya." He broke the connection.

"Everyone is worn down by this," River said from beside him. "We know, now, why you two were acting so spooked."

"I wish it wasn't like this," Jayne told her. "I really do."

"No fault of yours," she tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She was just too tired.

"Don't make me like it no better," Jayne replied, picking up his binoculars.

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Goldie was restless. He paced around the ship looking for. . .well, just looking. He didn't know what was wrong, just that something was. He was the engineer. If something was wrong with the ship, then it was his job to find it. And fix it.

"What you lookin' for?" he heard Zoe call from above him, as he searched the cargo bay.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I just got a feelin' somethin' ain't right, that's all. I'm tryin' ta find it 'fore it causes a problem."

"So you don't even know what you're lookin' for?" Zoe's voice was faintly amused.

"I'm lookin' for anything that might be a problem, Zo'," he told her. "That's all I know to do," he added, with a shrug.

"You don't _know_ there's a problem, do you." It was statement, not a question.

"I know _something_ is wrong," he corrected. "I don't know it's with the ship, no. But since we're on it, and in space at the moment, I thought it couldn't hurt to take a look." Zoe couldn't argue with that logic.

"How often do you have these. . ._feelings_?" she asked.

"Ever now and again," he replied, looking at her. "But they ain't never wrong, Zoe. When I have'em, _somethin's _wrong_. Always_." Zoe pondered that.

"What say I give Argo a wave, then, see if something's outta kilter there?" she asked him.

"Okay," he nodded. "I ain't findin' nothin' here."

"C'mon, then," she motioned for him to join her.

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"Incomin' wave," River murmured. Jayne put down his goggles.

"Prob'ly Toby," he replied, answering the call.

"What are you two up to?" Zoe's face appeared on the screen. "Out at this time o' night?" She grinned when she said it.

"Lookin' fer the Slasher," Jayne replied flatly. "Reckon he taken that female Marshal you like so much. We're tryin' ta find him 'fore he kills her." Zoe lost her grin.

"When did it happen?" she asked, leaning forward.

"Night ago, now? I guess," Jayne frowned. "Is this Saturday?"

"Actually, it's Sunday mornin'," Zoe informed him. "Early yet."

"Well, he took her Friday afternoon," Jayne told her. "We was out for a long time yesterday, I guess," he shrugged. "Had 'bout six hours downtime, now we're lookin' again."

"Nothing so far?" Zoe asked.

"No," River answered, taking over so Jayne could resume his search. "Nothing. There is a Marshal's shuttle also searching. And every deputy in the parish is on the ground, watching. But no success, so far."

"You look tired, River," Zoe said.

"We are both wrung out, as _Baba_ would say," River nodded. "But, it's not over taxing to stay in the air. So long as we can stay awake," she added, this time with a bitter laugh.

"Don't kill yourselves tryin' ta save her," Zoe ordered. "I don't mean that hard, but losin' you two won't find her no quicker. Or at all, for that matter."

"We're proceeding for now," River nodded. "If we reach a point where we cannot continue, we can always sit down, rest for a while, and then go on from there."

"That sounds like a plan," Zoe nodded. "We can be there in about twenty-seven hours, I think, if I did the math right. We'll do a burn, launch the shuttles on the way in. We'll call when we're close."

"Might want to check in with Toby before launching," River warned. "It may be over by then."

"Okay. You two be careful." She broke the wave, and turned to Goldie.

"You were right," she nodded. "Wake 'Becca. We need to put on some speed."

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"Inara, I want to sit outside," Mal told her. "I stayed in yesterday, but it's a nice day out, and I feel pretty good. Just let me sit out on the ver. . .vern. . .the _porch_, and that's all I ask." Inara didn't look at him at once, composing herself. Finally she turned.

"All right," she relented. "But you have to promise you won't do anything. Just sit there. _Read_ something, maybe."

"I'll give it try," Mal promised. "I got a book on my desk I been meanin' ta read. How 'bout you fetch that for me?"

"All right," Inara nodded. "I'll have Liam help you down."

After calling to Liam, Inara headed to Mal's small office. She smiled at the furniture River had picked out for him. It was so. . ._Mal_. She spotted the book in question, picking it up. _The History of Serial Killers_, she read.

"Oh, no you don't," she threw the book back down. She went to her own office, going through her own books. She found one that made her smile, and took it with her to the veranda.

Mal was settled into his rocking chair, looking pleased, but tired. Liam was standing by, just in case.

"That's fine, Liam," Inara nodded. "Thank you, so much," she added. The boy nodded, walking out into the yard. She sighed as Liam started looking carefully around, checking the yard, and the surrounding area. Then she looked at Mal.

"Nice try, Mal," she snarked. "There's no way you're reading that book right now," she added, handing him what she picked out.

"Well, it were a history book," Mal managed not to whine. "Figured you'd be pleased that I was readin' some history."

"I'm sure," Inara snorted delicately. "Meanwhile, try that one," she ordered, going back into the house. Mal looked at the book.

"_Dune_," he read. "What's a book called _Dune_ gonna be about?" he called.

"It's a classic," he heard Inara's voice from inside the house. "So I'm sure you've never heard of it, let alone read it."

"Classic, huh?" Mal muttered, looking at the cover. "Is that a _gorram_ big worm on the cover?" he demanded. "Why am I readin' 'bout a _gorram_ giant worm!"

"It's a science fiction novel Mal," Inara's voice floated to him. "Written on Earth-that-was, long before the Exodus. It's a very good book."

"Fine," Mal muttered. What the hell, he decided. Wasn't like he could do anything else, no way.

"Dune," he shook his head at the silly title, then opened the book. "Who'd write a whole _gorram_ book 'bout great big worms in a desert?"

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River struggled to focus. She was so tired.

"Hey!" Jayne's call snapped her out of her fugue.

"Yes?" she asked, instantly checking to see if all was well with the shuttle.

"Head back to the barn," Jayne ordered, laying aside the binoculars he'd been using. "We're both give out. Zoe's right. Ain't gonna help no one, we crash and burn."

"She is fine," River said automatically. "She just needs to pay attention." Jayne's eyes narrowed at that.

"River," he said, fighting to stay calm, "we need to head back to the ship. Okay?" She looked at him, a look of puzzlement on her face. Jayne fought down the urge to panic.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm tired," Jayne shrugged. "And I can't keep looking through these things right now. I'm goin' blind." Jayne worked to stay calm. Calm, calm, happy thoughts. Good, happy thoughts. River's eyes narrowed as she felt his struggle.

"What happened," she asked.

"You started with the 'she' thing again," Jayne admitted. "Ain't heard that in a long time, _ai ren_," he added softly. River paled slightly.

"It's because we're exhausted," she nodded. "You are correct in that we should return to the ship. We need rest before we continue." Jayne didn't react to the speech pattern this time. He hadn't heard it in a long time. So long, he decided, that he had figured she was past it.

But apparently not.

"Let's go home," he said easily. "I wanna sleep til tomorrow."

"I will join you," River replied dully. Her eyes were glassing over from fatigue.

"River, do you need to land right now?" Jayne asked. She didn't answer right away.

"I do not think so," she replied at last. "I believe that I can safely return us to _Serenity_." Jayne almost choked at that. She didn't remember what ship they were on?

"Uh, River, how's about we just set down somewhere, and rack out a few hours, okay? We can start searching again, when we wake up."

"Would prefer her own bed, thank you," River shook her head doggedly.

_Gorramit!_ Jayne fumed. He had to do something to snap her out of this!

"River, you ain't okay," he said finally, opting for bluntness. "You're rambling a bit, and that worries me. Let's just put down for a while, and get some shut eye."

"I'm fine," River persisted. "We'll be home in a few minutes." She seemed more aware, now. "And I would prefer to sleep in our bed, rather than this cot thing." Jayne released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. She was tracking okay, it seemed. For now.

"I won't argue that lil' darlin'," Jayne chuckled tiredly. "How far are we from the _Companion?_" he asked. River shot him a confused look.

"I don't know where Inara is," she told him. "How can I know how far we are from her." Jayne shook his head.

"River, our ship is named after Inara, remember? _Private Companion_? Mal's other ship, which me and you run?" River looked at him for a moment, then back out the screen. He thought she was okay until he saw her lip tremble.

"River, it's okay," Jayne told her soothingly, rubbing her back. "We're both so tired, we're lucky we know our own name."

"What's wrong with me?" she asked tearfully. "Why am I not. . .not. . . ."

"Hey!" Jayne snapped his fingers. River's head bobbed slightly at that. "You're _fine_. All's you are is dead tired, get me? There ain't _nothin' _wrong with you that a good long sleep won't fix. We been goin' near three days on six hours sleep. That's enough to rattle anyone's brainpan." She nodded.

"Lack of sleep would create an instability in focus, and an increase in disorientation. You are quite correct. Source of problem has been identified. Logical fix is to obtain rest, preferably long term. Twelve hours minimal time needed to regain proper focus."

"Okay," Jayne nodded. "Sounds good to me. You sure we can get back and land okay?"

"Yes," River nodded firmly, once more his treasured wife. "Focus restored temporarily by adrenaline rush caused by fear and uncertainty. Sufficient focus will remain for docking in. . .twelve minutes and sixteen seconds. Approximately," she added with a grin. _Thank Bhudda_, Jayne thought.

"Thank _Jayne_," River corrected. "He is the source of her focus and her stability. Without him, there is no River. There would only be the girl."

Jayne didn't much care for the sound of that, but if that's what it took to get her squared away, then he'd have to let it go.

Thirteen minutes later, they were onboard _Companion. _Neither spoke as they headed for their bunk. They were asleep in mere seconds.

Jayne's dreams were haunted by visions of a crazy slip of a girl who didn't recognize him. Didn't know him.


	18. Chapter 18

Sins of the Past – Chapter Eighteen

Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.

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_Serenity_ hit atmo over Argo in less than twenty-four hours. Zoe had done the math right, but Becca had managed to trim the time by nearly three hours. She was proving her worth over and over. Zoe waved Toby Bontrager.

"Hi, Zoe," Toby didn't smile. He was unshaven, and looked frazzled.

"Toby," Zoe nodded. "Talked to River and Jayne. Said they was searching, something like we did last time. Still need help?"

"All we can get," Toby nodded. "You close by?"

"We're in atmo right now," Zoe surprised him. "We can launch both shuttles anytime. Becca says her and Gerry can take the other shuttle from _Companion_, once she lands. She's a good pilot."

"Okay," Toby rubbed his face. "How 'bout you and Goldie come here. I'll pair each of you with one o' the Greggs' boys. They know this parish inside out."

"Sounds like a plan," Zoe nodded. "We'll be flyin' in just a few minutes."

"See you when you get here," Toby nodded, and the wave broke.

"Becca, you sure you're okay to fly?" Zoe asked.

"I'm good. For a while anyway. I know the parish pretty well, too. And Gerry's a hunter. We'll be fine."

"Don't land," Zoe warned. "No matter what. You see something, you stay with it, and you call it in. _Dong ma_?"

"You got it," the younger woman nodded. "I ain't wantin' ta end up like. . .like. . . ."

"I get it," Zoe said softly. "We're goin', then."

"Luck," Becca replied, concentrating on her flying. Zoe found Goldie preparing for the search.

"Don't know how long we'll be out," he told her, handing her a bag. "Late model night vision. Best there is out there, other than some stuff the military uses." Zoe took it, nodding.

"I don't gotta tell you to be careful, I guess," he said softly.

"No," Zoe took his hand. "You don't."

"I love you, Zoe," Goldie said softly. "Somethin' happened to you, I'd be like to just whither up and die."

"I feel the same way, _bao bei_," she kissed him softly. "Next time we're on Astra, we'll stay a few days. We got a few days off comin'. _Alone_," she stressed, and he laughed.

"I like the sound o' that," he kissed her back. "Fly safe." She turned and headed for shuttle one. He watched her go, then turned to his own shuttle.

Time to fly.

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Hiram Bonds stirred on the couch in Mal's office, his eyes coming fully open with a start as he remembered where he was. He was surprised to see it was light out. He had finally succumbed to fatigue, and Toby had put him here, out of the way. And quiet.

Bonds got to his feet, fixing his clothes, and walked out into the office. His mind was sharply focused after his nap. He would find his partner, no matter what it took.

Tired people didn't even look up as he walked to the map on the wall. He noted that the Cobb's were off the board, and felt a stab of anger at that.

"Got two more shuttles comin'," Toby told him as he walked up to the Marshal. "Washburne and Tarrant will be here shortly with both shuttles from their ship. And their pilot, along with their hand, will be taking the Cobb's other shuttle when they touch down. With the Marshal's shuttle, that gives us four birds in the air. Increase our chances o' seein' somethin'."

"What about the Cobb's?" Bonds asked. "When will they be back in the air?"

"They won't," Toby informed him. "They have to head out on their run to Astra at dusk. Won't be back for a week, at least."

"Have them leave the shuttle, then," Bonds ordered.

"We're keepin' one of'em," Toby shook his head. "They need the other, case they have problems in the black."

"I said order them to leave the shuttle" Bonds repeated. "We need it."

"Then get one of your own," Toby seethed, white hot in an instant. "They've worked damn near solid helpin' you out. And you can't _order_ them to do a damn thing."

"I can declare a law enforcement emergency. On my own authority."

"Good luck with that," Toby snapped back. "I don't envy you tellin' Cobb that. He ain't the most peaceable man I ever knowed."

"He'll co-operate, or I'll arrest him," Bonds replied evenly. Toby snorted.

"Now that, I'd pay money to see," the Investigator snarked. "He'd eat you alive. You and any three others you chose to take." Bonds looked at him.

"We need that shuttle."

"Well, you ain't gonna get it," Bontrager didn't flinch. "Got three private shuttles in the air, or going into the air in the next half-hour or so. And one, _one_, Marshal's shuttle. We're doin' our part, and then some, Bonds. You're not givin' the orders here."

Bonds looked at him for a moment, then looked back at the board.

"This is an emergency, Detective," he droned. "We have a Marshal missing, likely a captive of a serial killer. I don't have time to argue."

"Good, cause I ain't arguin'," Toby replied. "I'm tellin'. No one bothers the Cobbs about this. That includes you. Unless you'd like to test the hospitality of _our_ jail, that is," he added.

"You don't have the authority," Bonds told him.

"I expect that'll be the judge's rulin'," Toby nodded. "Once he gets 'round to hearin' the arguments, course. Might be a while." Bonds turned now to look at Bontrager again.

"You're really willing to go head-to-head with me on this?" he demanded.

"Yup," was the short reply. "Lookin' forward to it, in fact."

"I'm trying to save my partner. My _friend_!"

"By risking the lives of the Cobbs? Their crew? I don't think so, Bonds. Like I said. You want more than we got, you get on the cortex, and you get more Marshal support. We're doin' all we can." With that, Toby turned and walked away, heading for his office.

He needed to call Cobb. Just in case.

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"You what?" Jayne asked, looking at Becca Phillips and Gerry Frye.

"We're supposed to take one of your shuttles, and join the search for that Marshal," Gerry shrugged. "Zoe's orders."

Jayne frowned at that. They were due to leave at dusk on their own trip to Astra. They hadn't needed the shuttles in a long time, true. But every trip into the black was a risk.

"Take Shuttle One," River said suddenly. "Shuttle Two is the one with our emergency supplies on board." Jayne didn't nod, but grunted his acceptance and agreement. They had long ago loaded that shuttle with sufficient food and water for five to seven days of survival in the black.

"Okay," 'Becca nodded. "I'm. . .I'm really sorry about this," she added.

"It's okay," Jayne shrugged. "And, maybe you guys can help. We been tryin', just ain't nothin' out there. Come with me a minute, Gerry. Got some gear you'll find useful, happen you're out there long." The two men walked away, leaving River and Rebecca Phillips alone.

"Liking your job still?" River asked with a smile.

"Yeah," Phillips grinned back. "I love to fly, River. I really do. And flyin' _Serenity_ is like I'm flyin' myself, ya know?"

"I do indeed," River nodded. "Zoe says you're doing very well. And she doesn't throw compliments around lightly, either."

"I'm glad she's glad," Rebecca smiled again. "She's a good boss. I mean, you gotta do your job, sure. But she's fair minded, and don't get all mad when something you can't help goes wrong."

"She's the Amazon," River smiled. "Warrior from head to feet."

"Yeah. I wish I were like that," Phillips said aloud. "I mean, she's just so. . .in charge, you know?"

"I do," River agreed. "Well, you'd best start your preflight," she said as Jayne and Gerry came back. Gerry was holding a familiar looking bag.

"Spare batteries in the front pouch, you need'em," Jayne was saying.

"Thanks a lot, Jayne," Gerry said. "This'll be a huge help after dark."

"Just have 'Becca keep the cabin lights low," Jayne warned. "Make you go blind, she don't," he laughed.

"Wave comin' boss!" Holly called from the bridge.

"What now?" Jayne looked up, as if expecting lightning to strike from the blue.

"No bolts from Olympus," River giggled.

"Riiigghhtt," Jayne drug the word out, headed for the bridge.

"How in the hell did I ever end up bein' a _gorram_ ship captain, anyhow," he asked himself. He hit the receive button, to find Toby Bontrager looking at him.

"Jayne, need a word with you. Private like, unless River's about. 'Spect she might need to hear it too." Jayne nodded at Holly, who left quietly just as River walked up on the bridge.

"What's up?" Jayne asked.

"Bonds is makin' noise about commandeerin' your shuttle," Toby said at once. "I warned him it was a bad idea, and sorta threatened to jail him if he tried. But he's desperate, and desperate men do dumb things."

"We already lost one shuttle to the hunt," Jayne said. "We can't fly without at least one. Ain't safe."

"I told him that," Toby nodded. "Like I said. He's desperate. Between you and me, I ain't so sure he ain't losin' it."

"Well, like _I_ said, we already lost one," Jayne folded his arms across his chest. "We ain't givin' up the other. Period."

"Told him that, too," Toby nodded. "He made words about just takin' it, and arrestin' you if you tried to stop him. I told him I'd pay to see that, actually," he chuckled. "Seriously, I don't know if he'll try anything or not, but I wanted you to know where his head is."

"Be up his _pi gu_ he comes out here with an attitude," Jayne said menacingly.

"Well, I gotta get back to work," Toby nodded. "Just wanted ya to know." The wave broke, and Jayne looked at River.

"How near are we to leavin'?" He asked.

"Well, we're loaded. Liam and Chelsa are staying with Inara and _Baba_ this trip. Holly is in the engine room. We can be airborne in less than thirty minutes, if you want."

"I want," Jayne said at once. "There's no sense in waitin' fer that jackass to come out here and make a scene. Let's get this bird in the air."

"Right away, My Captain," River smiled saucily, and started working to make that happen.

Jayne smiled, slapped her on the backside, and was rewarded with a giggling shriek. He was glad to see that some rest had eliminated the problems she'd had earlier.

He headed aft. Time to check the cargo.

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Zoe and Goldie landed near each other in the empty parking lot across the street from the Sheriff's Office. The Gregg's boys were already there, waiting.

"You go ahead," Goldie told Zoe. "Check in with Toby. I'll show these boy how to operate my toys." Zoe nodded, smiling in spite of herself, and headed over to the office. When she walked in, Bonds zeroed in on her at once.

"Where's the other shuttle?" he demanded. Zoe looked at him for a moment, then answered.

"Probably airborne, by now," she said evenly. "They had to land, first. Then get the shuttle from the _Companion_."

"And the other shuttle?" Bonds asked.

"What other shuttle?" Zoe asked, puzzled. "We brought two, and have another comin'. That's all there is."

"There's another shuttle on the other ship," Bonds stated. "I want it."

"Not happenin'," Zoe refused at once. "_Companion_ leaves for Astra in just a few hours. They'll need it if something goes wrong in the black."

"I'm not concerned with what they need," Bonds waved her objection away. "I want that shuttle. Now."

"Well, I wanna be rich," Zoe shrugged. "I ain't. You'll get over it, same as I did, I'm thinkin'. Where's Toby?"

"Washburne, I'm warning you," Bonds lowered his voice. Zoe turned hard eyes on him at that.

"I remember how well that worked out for you last time," she told him, just as softly. "But, happen you want to try your luck again, be my guest."

"Bonds, this better not be about that shuttle!" she heard Toby Bontrager's voice from across the room. She looked to see the Chief Deputy descending on them.

"We got two birds outside, Toby," Zoe told him. "Should have another in the air any time, if it ain't already. How you want us to handle this?"

"I want. . . ." Bonds started, but Toby cut him off.

"You want to shut your mouth, Bonds," he warned. "You're about to get on my last nerve. Go over there, and sit down. I'll deal with you in a minute." He watched the man start that way, then turned to Zoe.

"We'll grid the north, just like last time. With four shuttles, it'll be smaller. Maybe we'll get lucky, with so much less territory to cover." Toby handed her a map.

"We'll head that way, then," Zoe nodded, taking the map. "I'll call the other shuttle once we're airborne, give them their area."

"Zoe, I really appreciate this, and I'm sorry about that idiot," he turned to point at Bonds, then stopped.

"Aw, hell, where did that jackass go, now?"

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Bonds was strung out so far with stress, worry, and fatigue that he wasn't thinking straight anymore. His focus was on Isabel, and getting her back safe. Anyone who got in the way of that was a guilty as the Slasher, so far as he was concerned.

As he left the office, he aimed his car toward the Guilford Plant. He was less than half-way there, however, when he saw what could only be Reynolds' other ship breaking for the black. Screaming in impotent rage, he turned the car violently around, and headed back to town.

Toward Reynolds' house.

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Inara smiled as she looked at Mal, now completely engrossed in the novel she had given him. He'd been out here all day, napping at times, talking with her or Liam or Chelsa. They had all eaten out here, enjoying the breeze.

"How's the book?" she asked, sitting down.

"Pretty good," Mal told her, looking up. "Apparently this ain't the only 'verse where ya can't trust nobody, huh?"

"Apparently," Inara smiled. "You like it that much?"

"I really do," Mal replied, as if surprised. "I ain't never been one fer such. Always thought of it as frippery of one sort or another. But this is really good."

"I'm glad you like it," Inara rose, and kissed his cheek when she heard the doorbell rang. "There's more of them, if you're interested."

"Really?" Mal's face lightened. "That's shiny!"

"I'll dig them out of my other books after I see who's at the door." She walked down the hallway toward the door, only to find Liam Greggs once more standing behind it. He shrugged, smiling slightly. Inara laughed slightly, and opened the door.

Hiram Bonds was disheveled. She'd met him before of course, but didn't really know him. She did know people, however, and Bonds' eyes were dangerously wild.

"Where's Reynolds?" he demanded, trying to force his way into the house.

"Excuse me!" Inara blocked him. "You haven't been invited into this house. And Sheriff Reynolds is sick, I'm afraid. He's not to have any visitors, or conduct any business until the Doctor releases him."

"I don't have time for that!" Bonds told her. This time he shoved Inara, forcing her back into the house, nearly throwing her to the floor. "I want to see Reynolds, and I want to see him. . . ."

He didn't finish his demand, as Liam Greggs' rifle butt collided with the base of the Marshal's skull with a satisfying _crack_. Inara looked up at Greggs.

"He shouldn'a tried to force his way in," he shrugged. "And he _never_ shoulda put his hands to you. _Ever_." She looked on in amazement as the Jayne-in-miniature quickly disarmed the man on the floor, securing him with his own hand cuffs.

"Might better call Toby, I reckon," he said calmly, looking up at Inara. "His head might not be so hard as I thought."

There was blood on the back of Bonds head. Inara ran to call Toby. Liam just stood up, and sighed. Suddenly he kicked Bonds, hearing the crack of bone, which made him feel better.

"Don't _never_ touch none o' these women folk, _hundan_."

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"What's that noise?" Toby demanded, looking around. No one knew. He walked outside. A tractor was sitting near the front of the office, using an auger to dig a hole.

"What are you doing?" Toby called, waving to the operator. The man finally saw him, shutting down the tractor, and removing his hearing protection.

"Sir?" he called.

"What in blazes are you doin'?" Toby asked again.

"Puttin' in a new light," the man told him. "Work order said to do it late of the afternoon, after the traffic was down."

"I don't suppose you can do it any quieter, can you?" Toby demanded.

"Uh. . .well, no. Not really," the man shrugged helplessly. "But I won't need this but another few minutes, sir. Promise."

"All right," Toby sighed in frustration.

"Boss!" someone called from the door. "You need to get in here! We found Bonds!" Toby waved for the man to continue, and ran back into the office.

Once inside, someone handed him a phone. He took it with a questioning look.

"It's Miss Inara," Evelyn told him.

"Inara?" Toby put the phone to his ear.

"Toby, I know you're all busy, but we've had an incident over here." She briefly explained, and Toby closed his eyes as he listened.

"Tell me you're joking," he begged.

"Afraid not," Inara sighed. "He was. . .well, unbalanced isn't too strong a word."

"I'll be right over," he promised, handing the phone back to Evelyn. "Parker, Walters, follow me to the Sheriff's house. Evelyn get an ambulance over there, too. He's fine," Toby raised his hands as everyone looked up at him. "Just a problem with someone wantin' inside the house. All under control." He looked at the two men he had called.

"Let's go."

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"I don't believe it," Toby shook his head sadly. Two paramedics were loading Bonds' still unconscious self onto a stretcher, in order to take him to the hospital.

"Neither did I, but there it is," Inara shrugged helplessly. "If it hadn't been for Liam, I. . .well, I don't like to think how it might have ended. Mal is all but helpless at the moment. He doesn't even know this happened, yet. And I'd prefer it stay that way, until he's better."

"No problem," Toby nodded. "What he don't know won't hurt him, ay?" He grinned, but it was a tired grin. He looked at Liam.

"You coulda killed him, ya know," he said. "Why didn't ya?"

"Considered it," Liam replied calmly, to Inara's horror. "But figured it'd be best to just knock him on the head. Him bein' a Marshal and all." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Might tell'im, when he wakes up, I like as not won't be that nice happens there's a next time. We don't take to men puttin' hands to a woman."

"I'll pass that along," Toby smiled. "Good work, son." Liam nodded, saying nothing else.

"Well, we'll go, Inara," Toby said. "Got a lot to do, anyway. And this will take at least two men away from searchin' for _his_ partner. I'm gonna call the Marshals soon's I get back to the office, and let them deal with him. Once he's awake, anyway," he added with a chuckle.

"Good night, Toby, and thank you." The men departed quietly as possible in deference to Mal. Once they were gone, Inara looked and Liam.

"Did you really think about taking his life?" she asked. Liam looked at her with a raised eyebrow, as if he didn't understand the question. Which, of course, answered the question.

"Thank you, Liam," she said quietly. "If you hadn't been here. . . ."

"You'da thought o' somethin," Liam said matter-of-factly. "You're one o' the smartest people I know. You'da found a way." Inara felt a smile blossom on her face at the compliment. And at the implied confidence the Liam had in her.

"Thank you," she said simply. Liam nodded.

"I'm gonna take a look around," he told her, then disappeared into the growing dark.

_Our Guardian Angel,_ Inara thought. _Far too young for his burden_. Then she went inside.

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When Toby returned, he realized that the man in front was still working.

"You about done?" he asked.

"Yes sir," the man nodded. "Be about another hour, I figure. I gotta pour a bit o' concrete, and then set the light. She'll be good to go after that, I reckon."

"Sorry about earlier," Toby said. "Been a hard couple days."

"No problem," the man said through his heavy beard. "I wouldn't have your job, to be honest. Don't reckon I could take it."

"It ain't always this bad," Toby shrugged. "Anyway, sorry."

"Don't sweat it," the man told him. "I won't."

"Thanks," Toby nodded, and walked on into the office. The other man watched him enter the building, smiling behind is beard.

He walked to the back of his van and opened the door. Inside, tied to a pole, was Isabel Reeves.

"Time to plant you, little darlin'," he said softly. He hefted the pole, Reeves trying in vain to struggle free. The pole went into the hole, leaving her head and the top of her shoulders exposed. The small work blind would keep any casual observers from seeing her.

Working quickly but carefully, he began pouring the concrete into the hole around her. The pour stopped at her armpits. That done, the man fetched the 'lamp' from his truck, fixing it into the concrete as well.

"The light really works, by the way," he told her, humming softly. "It's solar powered, so I don't have to connect it to the grid. It'll work for a long while. Not that it will matter to you, of course. I think you'll make it three, maybe four days, depending on how hot it gets in here." Reeves screamed into her gag, but all that came out was the muffled '_hmmph_'. She was tied so tightly that she couldn't move more than a wiggle.

"Now, now, don't make such a fuss," he called, straightening the light. "It will make my work look shoddy. Oh, I almost forgot! Silly me," he chuckled as he walked back to the van. He returned with a small recorder.

"You'll love this," he told her, fixing the device firmly onto a metal stake he'd driven into the hard ground just for that purpose.

"This little thing will get power from the solar cells," he told her proudly. "Eventually, it will drain the cells, of course, but by then, it will have served it's usefulness. Remember I told you I would make you famous, did I not?" Reeves said nothing, looking at him with a combination of fear, hatred, and loathing.

"I never go back on a promise, my dear," he told her. "I will broadcast your last days across the cortex! Everyone in the quadrant will be able to see you struggle. It's even possible that they will find you," he added. "I highly doubt it, of course, but that's why I've never allowed you to see me. Just in case." He finished with the camera. With that, he looked at her once more.

"It's been a privilege to work with you, my dear," he said. Then, as Reeves screamed again and again into her gag, the Slasher fixed the light over her head. She could see through the glass, see the town around her. The sheriff's office was almost directly to her right. Surely they would find her!

The light came on suddenly, almost blinding her. She winced in pain at the shock to her eyes, blinking rapidly to try and get the tears from them. By the time she could see again, he was gone.

Leaving her to whatever fate found her. Realizing the helplessness, the _hopelessness_, of her situation, she screamed again and again into her gag.

No sound escaped her prison, however. A few people walked along the sidewalk, going on their way. Never realizing that she was there.

Never hearing her sobbing cries from under the light.


	19. Chapter 19

Sins of the Past – Chapter Nineteen

Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.

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Toby made a call to the Marshal's Office in Mount Talmidge. Chief Deputy Haimes looked as frazzled as Bontrager himself did.

"He did _what_?" Haimes demanded, once Toby explained the situation.

"It's only fair to tell you, in his defense more or less, that he's. . .well, I think he's pretty much lost it. He's been so tight focused on findin' his partner. . ."

"Well, he ain't the only one who's looking," Haimes declared. "We've got every man available from across the moon looking into every possible lead. Where is he now?"

"In the hospital," Toby admitted. "He, well, he kinda got knocked in the head for his troubles. Took a pretty good lick. Probably got a concussion, at least."

"Who hit him?" Haimes asked, eyes narrowing. "He may have been off his rocker, but he's still a Marshal."

"One of Reynolds' hands has been stayin' with'em, makin' sure nothin' happened. When Bonds tried to force his way into the house by shoving Miss Serra to the floor, the hand took exception, and clonked him on the head."

"Did you charge him?" Haimes asked. Toby goggled at that.

"That's a joke, right?" he asked. "Your man _assaulting_ a woman, and _forcing _his way into the home of our Sheriff, who is so sick he's under doctor ordered bed rest, and you want to know if the man who stopped him was arrested?" Haimes lost some of his belligerence at that.

"I see what you mean," he murmured.

"I haven't arrested Bonds, either," Toby added. "He's in protective custody at the moment, over at the hospital. Which, I might add, is taking two of my men off the search for his partner, and the man who took her."

"I get it," Haimes waved. "I just don't like my men being assaulted."

"Might wanna teach'em better manners then," Toby said remorselessly. "Folks here-bouts take a dim view on men layin' hands to a woman. Honestly, he's lucky he's breathin'. Only thing kept Reynolds' man _from_ killin' him was the fact he was a Marshal."

"I said I get it," Haimes repeated, a touch of impatience in his voice. "I'll have someone come and pick him up. Probably be tomorrow, if that's all right."

"Fine," Toby nodded. "You havin' any luck on your end?"

"A bit, but nothing helpful," Haimes admitted. "Found the building super in his apartment, dead. That was how the Slasher managed to get away with the carpet gag, and the elevator being out of order. No one to say otherwise."

"Sounds like he knew you were settin' a trap for 'im," Toby observed.

"I think so too," Haimes nodded. "And there weren't many people in the know about that."

"We didn't mention it to anyone," Toby assured him. "We were already concerned about her doin' this. Didn't want to take a chance that word might get out from here."

"We'll probably need a statement from you two, once we get to the investigation stage," Haimes sighed. "There were just too many things wrong on this operation. Deputies asleep on the job, lax security, you name it. We may as well have gift wrapped her, and left her for him on the corner."

"I'm sorry," was all Toby could think of to say.

"Well, I probably won't be in charge more than another day," Haimes told him bluntly. "I'll likely be lucky just to keep my job, in all honesty. Along with several others."

"The Task Force should take over in the morning," he continued. "Don't know even who's heading it at the moment. Figure it'll be someone from the Main Office in Argo City. They'll like as not be in touch with you some time tomorrow. Day after for sure."

"We'll help all we can," Toby promised.

"Thanks. I never imagined this getting so out of hand," the older man admitted. "Any of it." Toby said nothing, but nodded his agreement.

"Well, I need to go. I'll have Bonds out of your hair in the morning."

"Take care, Chief." The wave broke, and Toby leaned back. He was tired. He looked around him, as deputies filed in and out. They were tired too.

"Listen up!" he called, getting to his feet. "I wanna know how long everyone has been up. Get a list going, and check in with the field units. I want it in ten minutes."

He was going to send half his people home for a twelve hour stand down, then rotate them from then forward on a twelve hour basis. He couldn't keep up the pace any longer, he decided. His men where so tired they were starting to make silly mistakes. Stupid mistakes.

Half-an-hour later, half the force was on their way home. Toby decided to take a two hour nap in his office. Again.

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Inara sighed as she found Mal asleep on the veranda. She hated to wake him, but it was time for supper, and his medications. It was also time for him to come inside, as the night was growing cool now that the sun was gone. She shook him gently.

"Mal? It's time to go inside," she said softly. Mal started awake.

"Wha...huh?" he looked around.

"Come, My Pirate," she cooed softly. "Let us away inside." He grinned at her, so goofily that she giggled.

"Okay," he said, rising stiffly from his chair. She noted that he held onto the book he was reading.

"I see you've grown attached to the novel," Inara remarked.

"Yeah," he smiled. "It's pretty interestin'. Reads about like our life would, was it set to writin' I guess." Inara thought about that for a second, then laughed.

"Yes, I suppose it would," she agreed.

"All this time I was worried 'bout Jayne sellin' us out, and it's them _doctors_ you got to watch out for," Mal added, grinning. Inara laughed out right at that.

"I don't think we can compare Simon to Yueh," she said.

"Be a good way to rib a little, though," Mal grinned again, this time more mischievously. Like he used to.

"That it will," Inara chuckled. "Now, inside."

"Yes'm."

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Jayne walked the ship, making sure all was in order. With a short crew this time, he needed to check everything himself. River had the bridge, and Holly the engine room, and he didn't want to take either of them from their own jobs. So, he did it.

"So much for bein' ruttin' in charge," he muttered to himself, though there was no heat in it. He felt better with Laim and Chelsa staying with Inara and looking after Mal. There likely wouldn't be any trouble, but if there was Liam would sort it out for them.

He wondered for a moment what the status on the search was. _Companion _was less than a day out, but well ahead of schedule because of their early departure.

He hadn't much cared for the woman, or her attitude, but he didn't wish no one to be in the hands of Ghoul. Jayne paused at thought, but knew it was true. There was no doubt in his mind that they were dealing with Ghoul. Not any more. At first he had hoped for a copy cat, but knew it wasn't.

Sighing, he admitted to himself for the first time that they had killed the wrong man on that night so long ago. True, he had attacked Blade, and was intending her harm, so there was no remorse at the death of the man lying in that deep unmarked grave. But he couldn't escape the fact that their 'trap' had failed to get the right man.

"Boy, we thought we knowed just what we was doin', too," he muttered. "Bout like that Marshal, and her stupid ass idea. Now she's in his hands, and that's like to be her end." Aware that he was talking aloud to himself, he shook his head, and kept walking.

_What did we do wrong, back then_? he wondered, as he went. _What could we have did different ta make sure we got the right one? Did we do somethin' wrong? Or was it just stupid bad luck?_

It was an important question for him. Book had always talked to him about sins, and the sin of pride was always one he spoke about often. Jayne knew he was arrogant. He thought of it more as confident and self-assured, but to others it would be arrogance.

Had he and the others that night suffered from the sin of pride in their own abilities? Assuming they had managed to catch a killer that no one else had been able to touch? Worse, had that sin led to the man being allowed to go on killing? For _years_?

It was hard for him to let go of that thought.

Very hard.

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"How you makin' it, big man?" Goldie asked Leander Greggs, as he banked the shuttle around for another leg of their search.

"'m tired," the other admitted. "Been at it a long while."

"Need to take a break?" Goldie asked. "We can always set down and let ya rest a while."

"Nah," Leander waved the suggestion off. "Need ta keep at it, I reckon." Just then, Toby's order for those on duty longest to report home for twelve hours, then come back to relieve the other half of the force.

"That catch you two?" Goldie asked.

"I guess so," Leander shrugged. "We been goin' since our shift on Friday night."

"Well, let's get you back, then," Goldie swung the shuttle toward town. He called Zoe.

"We're headed back, too," Zoe informed him. "You want, we'll take the one shuttle, and keep searchin'."

"I'm game," Goldie told her. "I don't think we're doin' any good, but I could be wrong. Was once before, back about six years ago. I'm due again any time."

"Really?" Zoe asked, eyebrows raised. "Wonder what you could be wrong about? Where you think you're sleepin' later? Something like that?"

"Aw, Zoe," Goldie whined. "That just ain't right at all."

"I'll see you at Mal's office," Zoe laughed. Goldie agreed, and cut the wave.

"You a lucky man," Leander said, rubbing his neck.

"Yeah, reckon I am," Goldie smiled.

"Ain't ever woman able to take on man's work," the other man went on. "She's tough, and strong. Don't hardly make'em like that no more."

"Well, that's true," Goldie nodded. He'd been thinking more along the lines of Zoe's beauty.

"Ain't bad lookin' neither, don't mind my sayin' so," Leander grinned, as if reading Goldie's mind.

"I don't mind," Goldie laughed. "She is a looker."

"But more depth to her than looks," Leander observed. "_That's_ what makes you lucky." Goldie looked at the man for a moment, thinking about that.

"You're right," he said at last. "You're absolutely right."

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Bonds came awake slowly. Shaking his head to clear it was a bad idea. Pain shot though his head, and radiated down his neck. He looked around him, realizing he was in a hospital room. He tried to sit up, and found out something else.

He was cuffed to the bed.

"What in hell?" he asked the empty room. "NURSE!" he bellowed. A short, rather ugly man wearing a deputy sheriff's uniform walked in.

"Might get a nurse, you acted a little better." Bonds could feel the anger radiating off the man. Well, that was fine. Bonds was pretty pissed off himself at the moment.

"Get these damn things off me!" he shook the cuffs toward he deputy.

"Ain't happenin'," Wart told him. "You ain't goin' nowhere until tomorrow, when another o' your kind comes and picks you up."

"Picks me up? For what?"

"Fer roughnin' up Miss Inara and tryin' ta force ya way into her house to see the Sheriff." Bonds blinked hard at that once, twice, three times.

"I what?" he asked, quietly. "I did that?"

"Yep," the Wart nodded without any sympathy. "Lucky that kid didn't kill ya, by the way. I can tell ya from first hand experience he ain't no body to play about with. Reynolds' family's been good to that boy, and his family."

"Kid?"

"The Greggs boy that laid ya up in here with that concussion you're sportin'," Wart took great delight in informing him. "He almost killed ya, but figured you bein' a Marshal, he'd give you one more chance first."

"Was he arrested?" Bonds asked, eliciting a belly laugh from the coarse former merc.

"Fer what? Clockin' you after you assaulted Miss Inara? Why'd he be arrested for that?"

"He struck a Planetary Marshal!" Bonds exclaimed.

"Yeah, a Marshal trying to force his way into a private home. With no warrant, and no cause. Was anybody to be arrested in this here case, I'd 'spect it to be you."

"I don't remember hitting anyone," Bonds shook his head, carefully this time.

"You same as," Wart shrugged. "Laid hands to a finer woman than can be found in a hun'erd miles, and shoved her near to the floor, demandin' ta see Reynolds. Who, by the way, is so sick, they ain't even told him what ya did." Slowly Bonds remembered what had happened, and why he'd been there.

"I needed that shuttle," he said quietly. "Cobb and Washburne refused to give it to me, and then Cobb left early to avoid me."

"Avoid _killin'_ you, maybe," Wart chuckled. "That kid ain't _never _run from a fight, as I know of. And he'd o' eat you fer breakfast."

"I needed that shuttle!" Bonds said again, louder.

"And you wasn't ta get it," Wart shrugged. "Can't send a freighter into the black 'thout at least one shuttle, case somethin' was to happen to it. Ain't safe."

"I've heard all that before, as I recall," Bonds snorted. "And I don't care whether they went or not, so long as I had that shuttle, and someone to fly it. To help look for my partner!"

"Well, now, you not only ain't got the shuttle, you ain't gonna be around here no more. Oh, and you completely disrupted the search by the by. Wound up havin' to pull men in to deal with this, and took a shuttle outta the air, too. So," Wart shrugged, "happens we don't find her til it's too late, you can look in the mirror when blame time rolls around. Ain't no one to blame for it but you. Now you quite down. Nurse'll be by in a minute or two to check on ya. And you better practice them manners o' yours, 'fore she gets here."

"You speak a word outta order to these women, and what the boy did for ya ain't nothin'. _Dong ma?_"

"You haven't the authority to keep me here," Bonds blustered. "I demand to be released at once!"

"Whatever," Wart shrugged, and left the room. Bonds yelled after him until he was hoarse, but no one came in.

Including the nurse, he realized after a while.

Laying back on his bed, Bonds fumed. And started thinking about how he would square things up with these people, once he was rescued by his comrades.

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Zoe and Goldie combed the sky for another seven hours, before calling a day. Zoe contacted Becca, and told her and Gerry to bring it in, as well. They'd try again after some sleep, and refueling. They stopped at the office to allow Goldie to grab the other shuttle, and headed back to _Serenity_.

Isabel Reeves watched them go from her tiny prison, screaming all the time into her gag, but to no use. Sobbing in despair, she lowered her head, and wept.

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"Toby!" Evelyn almost screamed at his door. "Omigod, Toby. BOSS! Wake up you gotta see this!" Toby rose sluggishly from his couch.

"What?" he asked, trying to focus. Evelyn ran over to his desk, and started punching an address into his cortex.

"Come and look at this!" she urged. "It's. . .it's. . . ." All she could do was shudder and point at the screen. Toby walked behind the desk, looking at the screen.

For a second he couldn't make out anything. Then, as his vision cleared, he could see. . . .

"Mother of God," he breathed. "How long has this been on?"

"It's gotta clock," she pointed. "Been runnin' 'bout an hour, maybe a bit more."

"Is this. . .is this _live_?" he demanded.

"We think so," the frightened woman nodded.

"Get Blade and her entire team down here right now. I don't care if they all have to take stim shots. I need them. Especially Ping. _Now_!" As Evelyn left on the run, Toby looked back to his monitor.

Where Isabel Reeves was visible, gagged and screaming. Live on the cortex.

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Ping looked at the signal for a moment, then sat down at Toby's desk. He quickly and efficiently opened the receiver, careful not to disconnect anything. Attaching his own equipment, he began a trace search. At the same time, he started searching for the frequency of the WAVE. Normally he would jam it, once he found it. But this time, he just wanted to know so he could track it to the source.

"How long?" Toby demanded.

"Long as it takes," Ping shrugged, never looking up.

"I need a time frame," Toby insisted.

"Let him work, Toby," Blade said quietly. "If he could give you a time, he would. Right now he needs to work." Toby was frustrated, but he nodded, and stayed quiet.

"Waves trackin'," Ping said softly. "May take a few minutes. If this guy is smart at all, then he's got several relays."

"Get to the last one, maybe we can catch him," Toby ordered.

"More interested in the source of the signal," Ping shook his head. "If I can find that, then we can maybe find her."

"Oh," Toby looked taken back by that. "I didn't know we could do that."

"_We_ can't," Blade told him. "Ping is one of about a dozen men in the 'verse who can do that kind of thing. Why you think we keep him around?"

"And here all this time I thought it was my egg-roll salad."

"Hey. Ain't nothin' wrong with that salad," Wart nodded. Everyone got a laugh out of that. And needed it. A tone sounded, and Ping frowned.

"This can't be right," he said more to himself than anyone. "Ah, it's a relay."

"Where is it?" Toby demanded.

"According to this, the first relay is across the street." He scribbled an address quickly.

"Bickford Inn?" Toby was shocked. "The son-of-a-bitch is _lookin' at us!_"

"Well, let's us go and say hi," Blade said, pulling her pistols, and checking them.

"Wait," Ping said. "Almost got the si. . .the first relay went off line. He may have shut if off, or it may have a auto-detect. I need that relay," he looked up at Blade. "I need to know how strong the transmitter is."

"We're on it," Blade nodded, starting for the door with Wart and Rolo in tow.

"Wait for back-up!" Toby ordered.

"Not today," Blade said over her shoulder. "You heard the man. We need that replay, even if he ain't there."

"Watch for booby traps!" Ping called. "He ain't likely to just leave it there unguarded."

"Right," Blade sighed. "Always the hard way. You got anyone trained in EOD?" she asked Toby. He grimaced.

"Yeah. Me."

"Suit up, then," she ordered. "We ain't got long." Toby ran to collect his gear.

"Stay on the trace, Ping," Blade ordered.

"You got it," he called, never looking up from his work.

"Wart?"

"Yeah, Babe?"

"Farmin' looks pretty good, 'bout now."

"I hear ya baby. I hear ya."

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Blade slid a camera beneath the hotel door, looking at the small screen in her hand as she panned around the room. No one was visible.

The cortex receiver sat on the desk top, right next to the window. She examined the set-up for a good long time, but could see nothing out of the ordinary.

"I got eyes on," she whispered into her mike. "Looks okay from the door. No sign of anyone inside."

"Lookin' now," Rolo replied. He and Bontrager were outside the window, on the narrow fire escape. Rolo used a small punch to make a hole in the glass, rather than risk raising the window. He pushed another 'cable-cam' inside the hole, and watched on his own monitor, slowly rotating the camera. Toby watched over his shoulder, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

"Wait, go back," he said suddenly. Rolo eased the camera back until Toby tapped his shoulder.

"Hold it there," he ordered, eyeing the scene around the small desk where the cortex receiver sat. "Follow that wire," he asked, pointing to the wire in question. Rolo moved the camera, slowly tracing the wire.

"Hold it," Toby said again, and Rolo stopped the camera. Toby looked at the picture for a long time. Finally he keyed his own mike.

"It's wired," he confirmed. "It looks like there's probably a pressure plate beneath the receiver. We lift it, and 'boom'. The wire disappears into the back of the desk, probably into one of the drawers. There's no way of knowing how much explosive is in there from here."

"Suggestions?" Blade asked.

"I don't know," Toby admitted. "I can try to deactivate the pressure plate, but something like that is tricky, even on a good day. We can't afford to assume that this guy's not an expert. He's too damn good at everything else."

"Agreed," Blade answered. "I'm going to bounce this picture to Ping, see if he can figure out what he needs to know from looking. Meantime, we need to get a real EOD team in here, and evacuate this hotel."

"Marshal's office has one," Toby sighed. "No idea how long it would take them to get here. Or even if they'll come."

"It's linked to their missing Marshal," Blade pointed out. "If they won't come for us, maybe they will for her."

"Maybe," Toby didn't sound hopeful. "Meantime, let's get the hotel emptied out."

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_He smiled, watching the police eyeing the room he had set the _

_first repeater in. He wanted to tease them, give them something to work with right away. He didn't know how they had managed to find it so quickly, but since he had wanted them to find it, he didn't ponder the problem for too long._

That's all you get for free, though_, he smiled to himself, and reached for a small switch next to him._

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They were still in place when the bomb went off. One minute they were still discussing their options, the next the world was filled with light and sound.

Toby and Rolo caught the worst of it. The window shattered under the pressure of the blast, and the flying glass shredded Rolo's armor, killing him instantly.

Toby was a little more fortunate. One, Rolo's body had caught the bulk of the blast. Two, his EOD suit had far heavier armor than the 'street' armor everyone else was wearing. Since he had intended to try and disarm any explosives they found, he was wearing the heavy suit.

The concussion deafened him, busting his right eardrum. Rolo's body was propelled back into him, and with his equilibrium already destroyed by the ear injury, Toby couldn't maintain his balance.

Falling backwards, and to the outside, Toby careened off of the narrow walkway of the fire escape, flailing his arms in an effort to catch himself. Although he missed the railing, Toby's actions did force his body back in as he fell, resulting in his landing on the second story railing with a loud '_oofff'_ as the wind was forced from his lungs. Toby felt rather than heard four of his ribs break as his body leaned forward and then pitched off the second rail, falling to the street below.

He landed with a dull _thud_, feeling the impact in every bone of his body, broken or whole, even as the wind was literally blown from his body in one big _whoosh_.

"That hurt," he gasped, shaking his head to try and clear away the ringing. He succeeded only in making himself sick from dizziness. Managing to turn on his side just before heaving his guts out, he never saw the large shard of glass that landed behind him. Had he not turned to throw up, he would have been impaled.

Inside, Blade was still holding the camera in place for Ping, and saw the explosion as if in slow motion. She inhaled to scream a warning, but there just wasn't time.

The door to the hotel room blew off it's hinges, shattering into the hall. Large pieces of hardwood became deadly spears as they shot out from the destroyed door frame, traveling faster than the eye could follow.

Blade tried to move out of the way, but caught a heavy piece of the door on her helmet, knocking her back and down, leaving her stunned. As she tried to regain her senses, she heard a low moan. Looking over slowly, she saw Wart lying against the wall, a large shard of the door piercing his chest.

"P. . .Peter! _Peter!_" She tried to get to him, but couldn't move for some reason. She managed one call before losing consciousness.

"Ping, we're down. Need help. . . ." It was almost a whisper, but Ping heard it.

"Hang on, Boss Lady, we're comin'!" Ping answered her.

Blade was aware of sirens blowing in the distance, and then she was aware of nothing for a long time afterward.


	20. Chapter 20

Sins of the Past – Chapter Twenty

Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.

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Help was on the scene in just seconds for the fallen deputies. Rolo was checked, and then abandoned, as he was beyond any help. Toby was actually on his hands and knees, still heaving, and no one bothered him, other than to watch him carefully until he could stop.

Ping cast a glance at his friend Rolo, then ran inside, bouncing up the stairs two at a time. When he made the floor where Blade and Wart had been, he drew up short.

Wart had slammed into the wall across from the now demolished door, and looked to be pinned there by a large wooden stake. Blade was out, lying on the floor. Ping could see blood from several wounds, but the head wound scared him the most. There was a hole in her helmet.

"We need two stretchers up here now!" he yelled into his mike. "And someone call Simon Tam! Have him meet us at the hospital! One head wound, and one chest wound!" Ping knelt by Susan first, careful not to move her. He checked the head wound, finding little blood flowing from the hole in her helmet.

"Probably bleeding inside the helmet," he murmured. He sprinkled Blood Stop into the hole, for good measure, then moved to Wart.

"Wart, you hear me?" he asked. Wart mumbled something.

"What? Say again, brother?" Ping asked, leaning forward.

"Think I need stitches," Wart said, laughing. When he did, pink, frothy blood flecked at his lips.

"That ain't good," Ping muttered. He quickly added more Blood Stop around the area of the stake, then tried to see if Wart was pinned to the wall. He was.

"This gonna hurt, brother," he warned softly.

"Already hurts," Wart managed to mumble, still awake.

"On three, then," Ping said. "One. . ." he counted, then pulled sharply on Wart's shoulders. Wart groaned aloud, but offered no other resistance.

"You s. . .said th. . ._three_, you jackass!" he managed to gasp.

"Thought I'd surprise ya," Ping didn't smile. "Didn't want you all tensed up."

"I don't die, I may kill you later," Wart warned, then looked around. Seeing Blade, he started.

"Forget me. S. . .see to h. . .her!" he urged.

"Already have, boss," Ping promised. "Got medics on the way. Think she's just out from the blast," he lied a little.

"She better be," Wart said to no one in particular.

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Simon was waiting at the hospital when the ambulances started to arrive. He looked at Toby, as he came in first.

"Got busted ribs," he gasped, obviously in pain.

"Get him to x-ray," Simon ordered. Techs hurried the stretcher on it's way. Next was Wart.

"Splinter's from a door, doc," Ping told him. "Had him pinned to a wall. I. . .I pulled him loose, didn't know what else to do. Put Blood Stopper around the wood on both sides."

"I need x-ray's here as well," Simon ordered. "And a full scan. Do the scan stat, I need to see what the damage is." Again, waiting techs hurried to obey Simon's commands. The last one in the door was Blade.

"She took one to the helmet," Ping pointed to the hole. "It might be a wood shard, or somethin' else, don't know for sure. I used Blood Stop around the helmet entry, but I didn't want to try and remove the helmet."

"You did fine," Simon nodded, looking her over hastily. "Was she with Peter?"

"Yeah, she was," Ping had to think for a second, thrown off by the use of Wart's real name. "Right next to him, in fact."

"Okay," he turned to the waiting doctor's and nurses. "I'm going to assume that her injuries are the worst, barring anything different from the scans. Get her scanned _right now_! I need to know if anything is holding that helmet on, or if it's safe to remove. I want all the scans as soon as they're finished. We have to prioritize here." They nodded, and hurried to accomplish his orders.

"You okay?" he asked Ping, who had slumped against the wall, waiting.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the other man nodded. "Just. . .wrung out, that's all."

"What can you tell me about their situation?" Simon asked. He needed all the information he could get.

"It's a long story," Ping shrugged. "But to cut to the chase, they were outside a hotel room. Wart and Blade in the hall, Toby and Rolo on the fire escape. They suspected a bomb in the room, so they were using cable-cams to get a look. . . ."

"Where's Rolo?" Simon interrupted. "Was he injured?" Ping looked at him, shook his head slowly.

"Rolo ain't comin'," he said slowly.

Simon froze. The simple phrase propelled him away from the ER, and he was suddenly back on Mr. Universe's Moon, hearing those words from Zoe. _Wash ain't comin'_. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to shake the image from his mind. _So much death and violence._ _So many lost._

"You okay, doc?" he heard Ping ask. Simon's eyes snapped open, and he was back in the ER at Bickford Hospital.

"Fine," he nodded. "Go on."

"Bomb went off," Ping said simply. "They caught the blast. Toby fell from the third floor. He ain't hearin' to good neither, but I reckon ain't none of'em. Wart was talkin' a little when I got there. He's some shook over Blade."

"Was she talking?" Simon asked.

"She made the radio call for help," Ping answered. "She was out when I reached her, though."

"Okay, thanks," Simon laid a hand on the other's shoulder. "I'll take care of them."

"I'll. . .I guess I'll get back," Ping struggled for a minute. "Had something working, and I need to follow up on it."

"I'll call the office when I get done," Simon assured him, then turned to run down the hall after his patients.

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Toby's injuries were serious, but amazingly not life threatening. Simon turned his care over to another physician.

Wart had a wooden spear in his chest wall, but away from his heart. Fortunately the wooden stake, as Simon thought of it, was much smaller on the end that had punctured the man's armor than on the one sticking out of his chest. It had not cut any vital veins or arteries, had not, in fact, even broken any bones. The most serious internal injury was to his lung. Rather than punctured, the left lung was torn slightly. A problem, and it accounted for the frothy pink blood Ping had seen on his lips, but not insurmountable. Again, Simon turned his care over to someone else.

That left Blade.

The scan revealed that part of the door's deadbolt had penetrated her helmet. While her skull was fractured, Simon had been relieved to see that it hadn't actually been penetrated. That was the good news.

The _bad_ news, though, was that the bolting mechanism _had_ embedded itself in her skull, pinning the helmet to her head. To complicate matters, she had several other wounds that were bleeding through. None by themselves were a threat, but together they were draining her blood at a rate that was dangerous indeed. Simon took on her case himself.

"I need a wheel saw, and someone who knows how to use it besides me," he told the ER director.

"We can air lift her. . . ." the director had begun.

"She hasn't the time to spare," Simon told her brusquely. "If we move, _now_, we may can save her. Otherwise, she's as good as dead. Now get me some help, and get it _now_." Jayne would have been impressed. Simon in full fledged trauma surgeon mode _was_ impressive. And his credentials were such that few would openly argue with him.

Fifteen minutes later, Simon picked up the saw, already gloved and gowned. He looked at the physician and three nurses who were assisting him.

"Let's get started."

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_She had watched as the rescue workers had come and gone, shrieking through her gag in an effort to attract attention. It hadn't worked. _

_As the last of the people departed the scene, she once again sobbed in despair. So close to help, so far from rescue._

_She would die here._

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"Miss Inara, I'm sorry to disturb you all, but I gotta talk to the Sheriff." Leander had his hat in his hand, and looked the part. He _was_ sorry to have to bring all this to the Sheriff, but he didn't see any other choice.

"I'm sorry, Leander, but the Sheriff is on sick leave," Inara told him, kindly.

"Ma'am. . .ma'am, he ain't no more." Inara blinked at that.

"They ain't . . . well, Toby, Blade and Wart are all in the hospital. And Rolo, well, he's dead. And. . .well, ma'am there just ain't nobody else. That's all."

Inara couldn't stop her reaction. Normally she was able to reign herself in, but all of this at once was overwhelming.

"What in Buddha's name has _happened_?" she asked, moving to let the man inside. Leander stepped inside, but no further.

"You know about the woman Marshal, I guess?" he asked. Inara nodded. "Well, 'bout. . .I don't know, now, but at least a couple hours ago, was a streaming feed hit the Cortex. Of her. She's somewhere, alive, but looks like she's trapped somewhere. Cryin' and what not. The stream is going out live, like I said. Somehow they traced it to the Inn, cross the street. Them four, they went to check it out. They was a bomb, though, and. . . ."

"Hold on," Inara cut him off. "There's no sense in your having to repeat this. I'll get the Sheriff."

"Obliged, ma'am." Inara climbed the stairs, her head reeling.

_How in all that's holy can one man cause all of this?_ she wondered. _And how can they stop him? Mal was supposed to take it easy, but he's been sitting here at home for nearly a week. He's fairly well rested. So long as he isn't in the field, he should be okay._

She didn't have to wake him. Mal was sitting in bed, reading. He looked up at her, smiling.

"Mornin'."

"Mal, I have something to tell you."

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Leander was startled to see the Sheriff walking down the stairs less than ten minutes later. His walk was firm, if pained, and his face was resolute.

"How 'bout you drive me to the office, and explain on the way?" he said to Leander.

"You got it, boss," the man almost smiled. Mal kissed Inara lightly.

"Don't worry. I'll take it easy."

"Be careful," she whispered.

"You got it."

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Bonds had noted the influx of traffic idly, still fuming at his 'protective custody'. No amount of threats, pleas, or outright demands had worked. He was still sulking when the doors opened, and two of his co-workers walked in.

"It's about time!" he growled, sitting up. "Get me out of here. I aim to. . . ."

"You aren't doing anything, Hiram," one of the agents said, his voice soft, but unyielding. "You're on indefinite suspension. Actually, you're lucky you aren't under arrest. We're here to take you home."

"I can't go home!" Bonds protested. "My partner is still missing! And these local yahoos are impeding my investigation!"

"These 'yahoos' just lost a man, and three more hurt, trying to save your partner," the other man's voice hardened. "I'd ease up on that line, if I were you. You're in enough trouble as it is."

The rest of his tirade was lost. He sat dumbfounded. How had it come to this? How had _he_ come to this? His mind suddenly just. . .stopped. Blank. Nothing. Stress had finally caught up to him in one hard, swift blow. Somewhere inside his head a switch threw, and Hiram Bonds turned off.

It would be a long time before he turned on again.

His comrades in arms led him outside, and into a waiting ground car. He offered no resistance.

In minutes, he was on his way home. He never noticed.

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Mal walked into the office, and heads popped up everywhere as the word he was back spread. He nodded to all, then asked for an update.

"What's the word on Toby and the others?" he asked.

"Toby has broken ribs, and a busted ear drum. He'll recover, but he's out for a while." Evelyn read from her notes. She looked tired.

"Wart is in recovery. They removed a shard of wood that had imbedded into his chest when the door splintered. He's probably going to be okay, though he may not get the entire use of his arm back. Doctor's say it's too early to tell."

"Blade. . .Blade is still in surgery," Evelyn's voice cracked just a little. "She has a bad head injury. Simon is operating on her, himself, even as we're talking. She has some other wounds, but compared to the head wound, it's nothing." She looked up.

"Her prognosis is. . .iffy." Mal took all that in for a minute, then nodded.

"Right. Well, Simon's as good as they come, so they couldn't be in better hands. Now, let's see can we find the cause of their problems, and lay him to rest." Muted growls of agreement met him.

Mal looked at the people around him. Young, in some cases, inexperienced in almost all. Too many of the old hands had died, or quit, after their experience with the Nine.

"Where's Ping?"

"In Toby's office," Evelyn replied.

Mal headed that way. Ping was sitting at Toby's desk, pecking away on his roll-out keyboard. He looked up, then did a double take.

"Figured you'd be at the hospital," Mal said.

"Need me here, sir," Ping shook his head.

"Any luck?"

"Some," the man surprised Mal. "I had a good look at the receiver over the vid before the bomb went off. It's short range. The source of the signal has to be near by. It _could_ be a relay, but. . . ."

"But?" Mal prompted.

"This guy likes to show how smart he is," Ping shrugged. "I think she's close by. Maybe very close. He wants people to be afraid. He thrives on it, from what we've been told. For him to make people really afraid, he's got to make them think catching him, _stopping_ him, is hopeless. This is part of that."

"Okay, I'll buy that. When you say close, you mean. . . .?"

"Mile, two at the most," Ping replied. "And I think it's closer. The strength of the signal was better before it shut off. It's still clear, but there's occasional interference now. Like the signal's being bounced further, and probably through some other kind of signal. And, it's coming from further away, now."

"Which means that the receiver that got blown up is the closest to the source," Mal said, understanding.

"You got it," Ping nodded firmly.

"Well, that gives us a start. I want two people looking at every second of that footage from Reeves' camera. Ignore her. Look for anything, listen for anything, that's a giveaway to where she might be."

"Good idea," Ping nodded. "I'll get on it right now."

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It took almost four hours, but they got a break at long last.

"There. . .hear it?" Ping asked, rewinding the video yet again.

"What am I supposed to be hearin'?" Mal asked.

"Listen. . .there!"

"Almost sounded like. . .like an explosion?" Mal looked up with uncertainty.

"Got it in one," Ping smiled. "A _bomb going off_!" Mal's eye's narrowed.

"You got a time for this. . . ." He stopped as Ping called it up, smiling in triumph.

"Down to the second for the Inn explosion," he didn't quite crow.

"She's here in town!" Mal almost shouted.

"Oh, it's better than that," Ping smirked. "Take a look after." He started the vid again. Mal watched carefully as it ran. This time he heard the dull _whump_ of the explosion without prompting. But, just as he started to ask, he saw something. A cloud, of sorts, rolled across the screen, around and behind Reeves. His eyes lit up.

"She's near the Inn!" he exclaimed.

"Very near," Ping nodded. "And she has to be on this side of the street, or the debris cloud wouldn't have come near her."

"Let's go," Mal ordered. "Evelyn!" he called as soon as he was out of the office. "I want every man here on the double. And call the city offices. I want every employee on the payroll, no, wait. . .every _male_ employee on the payroll, out front in ten minutes." Evelyn didn't even bother to ask, just started calling. Mal hobbled as fast as he could, Ping and two other deputies following.

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Mal looked around him, frowning.

They had been at it for an hour. So far, they had nothing. People had looked in every hole, nook, cranny, spot, _anything_ they could see or feel. Nothing.

He'd even ordered all the garbage cans emptied. Still nothing. His leg was killing him, he realized. He looked around at a side walk lamp nearby, and limped over to sit down on it.

He felt it as soon as he sat down. It wasn't something he could hear, but he could feel it. He jumped up, wondering if he'd sat on some critter's home.

He looked closely at the light, and he could see movement inside. A lot of movement. Then he frowned.

"How long has this light been here?" he asked. One of the city maintenance workers looked at it, then scratched his head, puzzled.

"I. . .I never noticed it before," he admitted. "Looks new, though."

"Get me a crowbar!" Mal yelled. Ping ran over with a pry bar he'd been using.

"Get the lid off this thing," Mal ordered. "And be careful," he added.

"You think?" Ping looked at him, then the lamp.

"Let's find out." Ping nodded, and stuck the prybar into the crevice under the top. Slowly, carefully, he pried the lid back far enough to see. . . .

"Hot damn, we found her!"

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Mal had wandered away from the scene itself. Reeves hadn't stopped screaming since her gag had been removed. A hasty work tent had been erected around the site, and once medics had looked her over, workers had started removing the concrete she was buried in. She was getting fluids through an IV drip, and a water bottle had been placed where she could drink at will. She'd been through four already.

"We need to get some women in here," Mal said softly, when Ping came to check on him. "She ain't got a stitch on looks like, and if she's been there for all this time, she's a mess, most like." Ping nodded his understanding.

"We don't have any women deputies," he said, almost sadly, thinking of Blade. Last they had heard, Simon was still working on her. "We can get some nurses, or maybe some female medics out here."

"Do that, then," Mal nodded. "I guess I better go call the Marshals."

"Better you than me," Ping shrugged, then ran off to complete his task. Mal silently agreed as he hobbled his way toward the office.

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_He watched as they rescued her. This wasn't supposed to have _

_happened, at least not so soon. He had known there was a chance, of course, that they would discover her. But how had they managed to do it so quickly? He shook his head._

_Hubris. That's how. He had allowed his pride to make him foolish. He had acted on his pride, on his need to teach the woman, and her colleagues a lesson. To show them he was superior. He sighed._

_No matter. His mission was not a complete failure. Yet, he had given them a victory. He frowned. He couldn't allow this victory to rob him of his prize. He would have to rattle them with his next work. Yes, rattle them very hard indeed. He smiled suddenly._

_Let them think they had frightened him away. Defeated him. Yes, that would turn their little victory to ashes in their mouths._

_Whistling, he walked away from the scene, already planning his next move._


	21. Chapter 21

Sins of the Past – Chapter Twenty One

Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.

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_Sorry about the long wait for an update. Broke my ankle, so I been a little out of it. Hope it was worth the wait. Thanks for all the shiny comments. They're like candy!_

__

Mal sighed as he sat at his desk. Blade was finally out of surgery, but Simon had been blunt.

"If she makes it the next twenty-four hours, she'll probably recover. I don't. . .I can't promise she will."

Well, Simon was as good as they come. If he couldn't save her, no one else could either. Wart was being kept sedated, so upset was he over Blade. Toby was awake, sitting up, and complaining loudly. Mal smiled at that. Toby would recover, though he faced a few weeks of pain and aggravation. Mal could tell him about that.

Meanwhile, Reeves, still shrieking, had been moved to the hospital as soon as she was free of her little prison. To say she was hysterical would have been generous. He doubted she'd ever recover.

_I told her it was too dangerous, _he thought. _We all did._

Bonds was already gone. Mal had almost had a fit when he'd learned what the man had done. He didn't like to think what would have happened to Inara if Liam Greggs hadn't been there. Mal was stumped at the man's behavior. Of the two of them, it had been Bonds who had come around, working hard, and a team player.

_Stress_, Mal decided. _He's just as susceptible to it as I have been_. And Mal's stress had almost killed him. A knock at the door brought Mal out of his thoughts.

"Hello, Malcolm," Braz Guilford said quietly. "Do you have time for a visit?" Mal could see Harmon Fuller behind him.

"Sure," Mal nodded. "Come on in, please." The two men walked inside, and took seats.

"That was good work, Mal," Fuller said. "Finding that Marshal."

"It wasn't me," Mal shrugged. "I mean, I found her, but it was a man o' mine that did the most of the work. He's a sharp cookie."

"I was sorry to hear about Toby," Braz remarked quietly. "And the man you lost. I understand that remarkable woman deputy is still in a bad way?"

"Yes," Mal nodded. "Simon says if she makes it the next day or so, she should survive. But he says it ain't a sure thing, by no means."

"We've lost a great deal, of late," Braz said mournfully.

"I'm right sorry about that," Mal said, keeping his voice even. "Seems I brought a hex on you people."

"I don't think that's quite fair, Mal," Fuller said firmly. "The violence with the Nine was lurking here already, and necessary to take back our town. If you hadn't done it, someone else would have had to. As for this maniac," he waved his arm around, "he's struck in a dozen or more places over the last several years. I don't know what led him here, but I doubt it was you. If anything, you've given him more of a headache than anyone else has."

"Well, we do try," Mal sighed. "But we ain't got a lot to show for it, so far."

"You saved the Marshal's life," Braz replied. "That's certainly not nothing, Malcolm." Before Mal could reply, a man burst into his office, not even bothering to knock.

"You Reynolds?" the man demanded brusquely. Mal looked at him calmly.

"I'm _Sheriff_ Reynolds, yes," he nodded. "And as you may can see, I'm a bit busy at the moment, Mister. . . ."

"Bailey, Planetary Marshals," the man said pompously, as if that should explain everything. "Slasher Task Force. I'm here to take charge of this investigation, and to find our missing agent. We'll be using your office as our headquarters. I'll expect your full co-operation."

"Is there a training manual you people use for that?" Mal asked. "An outline you follow when you barge in somewhere 'takin' over'? Cause I seem to have heard this song before."

"Oh, and in case no one told you, we already found your missing agent. With no help or thanks to _you_ and your task force, by the way." Bailey looked startled.

"You've found Marshal Reeves? I hadn't been made aware of that."

"Looks like you may not be so important as you thought, huh?" Mal snorted. "She's over to the hospital. Under guard. Now that you're here, you can take over that little duty for us."

"I'll expect you to maintain her guard around the clock," Bailey's pompous attitude returned.

"Well, I can't do that," Mal told him flatly. "See, I lost three men injured and another killed trying to rescue your agent. 'Spect you all was too busy to come look for her til now. Any event, I'm too short-handed to keep men over there when you and your _task force_ are rollin' in here takin' over. You can have the same office the last two o' your kind used. It's down the hall, on the right. I'll have Evelyn show it to ya."

"I don't think you understand, Sheriff," Bailey shook his head. "I am now the chief law enforcement officer in this parish until further notice."

"I hardly think so," Harmon Fuller snorted. Bailey looked at him.

"And you are?"

"I'm Harmon Fuller. One of the Parish Commissioners. And you certainly are _not_ the chief law enforcement officer in this parish, I can assure you."

"I have full authority to. . . ."

"Malcolm, may I use your cortex, please?" Braz asked suddenly. Mal nodded.

"Who are you?" Bailey demanded.

"I'm just the President of the parish commission," he smiled. "Please, do continue. Pay me no mind." He settled behind Mal's desk, and placed a call. Bailey was about to continue his speech when the screen lit up. Behind the young woman who answered was the seal of the planetary governor.

"Hello, Anna," Braz smiled. "How are you?"

"I'm wonderful Mister Guilford, how are you?"

"I'm old and worn out dear, but still upright for the moment. Is he in?"

"Yes sir, hold on a moment." The screen froze, and soon lit up again, this time with the face of the planetary governor.

"Braz! Been meanin' to call you. Heard that sheriff o' yours found our missin' Marshall. Tell him I said excellent work, and we owe him a big thanks!"

"I'll do that, Marvin," Braz nodded. "I hate to bother you, but we're having a small issue with a Marshal trying to take over our Parish. Claims he's now the 'chief law enforcement officer' of the Parish, and is basically running our Sheriff out of his own office. Or trying to." The Governor's face tightened.

"Put him on," he ordered. Bailey's face paled.

"Marshal Prentice Bailey, sir," he stepped forward.

"Are you an idiot?" the governor demanded. "Haven't you people cause enough trouble for me for a while? Can't you do your damn job, and stop this maniac, without offending the people who are _doing your job for you_?" Bailey's face turned red.

"We're trying to get things rolling here, sir, that's all."

"Then I suggest you try a different tack, if you want to keep being a Marshal, _Dong ma_? Sorry about that Braz," the governor then completely ignored the Marshal. "Call me if things get out of hand again. And remember to tell Reynolds thanks for me."

"I'll do that, Marvin. You take care." Braz broke the wave, and looked up at Bailey.

"You were saying?"

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"She gonna make it?" Jayne was sitting on the bridge, taking a wave from Goldie.

"I dunno kid," Goldie replied. "She's in bad shape. Wart's prob'ly gonna be okay, but they're keepin' him sedated for now, cause o' her. Toby's gonna be okay, just hurtin' for a while. Got some broke ribs and a bust ear."

"And they found the Marshal that was missin'?"

"Yeah," Goldie nodded. "She like as not ain't fit for nothin' but the head ward, though. And that Bonds, he got took back to Mount Talmidge after what happened with Inara."

"What happened with Inara?" Jayne asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Well, he tried to just shove his way into the house, demandin' to see Mal, on account o' you left without lettin' him have your other shuttle." Jayne's eyes narrowed even further at that.

"That slimy little _hundan_."

"It worked out okay," Goldie smirked a little. "Seems your mini-me didn't take too kindly to Inara being rough housed, and he cracked ol' Bonds on the head. So hard they had to take him to the hospital."

"Good boy," Jayne nodded.

"Sure is. He may as well be your son, he's so much like you."

"Man do a lot worse for progeny," Jayne said seriously. "So what's happenin' now?"

"Dunno," Goldie held his hands up in response. "Waitin' to hear anything. "Least now the Marshal's seem to be takin' note of the situation. Not that it'll help any, from what we seen of'em so far."

"I don't like how this is goin', Goldie," Jayne said quietly.

"Me neither, kid," the older man agreed. "But I can't see anything we can do about it, to be honest. I am startin' to think this is the real Ghoul, though, and the guy we took was a copy cat. Or maybe his protege," he added.

"Great," Jayne snorted. "That's just awesome news."

"Ain't our fault, kid," Goldie said firmly. "We did what we could. All we could."

"I know," Jayne said softly. "Well, I guess I better get movin'. Let me know, anything with Blade changes, okay?"

"You bet." The wave broke, and Jayne sat back.

_How much worse was this going to get?_

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Liam Greggs sat on the front porch of Mal and Inara's home, swinging ever so slightly in the porch swing. With Mal back at work, and with so many hurt or gone at the Sheriff's office, Liam took his duties more seriously than ever.

Chelsa was inside with Mrs. Blalock, learning some recipe or other. She had taken to cooking in the days they had been here, and seemed to have a gift for it. He looked up as Inara walked out onto the porch, and stood.

"Anything you need, ma'am?" he asked at once.

"Sit back down," Inara motioned to him, smiling. "Everything is fine, so far as I know." She took a seat near the swing, sipping at the tea in her hand.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked.

"Got some water, ma'am," he held up a glass. "Thank you."

"You could call me Inara, you know?"

"No, ma'am, I can't," Liam replied, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "My ma would tan the tar plum outta me, if'n she heard tell of it."

"Well, we don't want that, at all," Inara laughed. "I want to thank you, Liam, for all you've done. I honestly didn't think we'd need you. But if you hadn't been here, I simply don't know what I'd have done."

"Welcome, ma'am," Liam nodded. "Glad I was here, and could be a help."

"What are your plans for the future, Liam?" Inara asked suddenly, catching him off guard.

"Huh?"

"The future, Liam. What are your plans?"

"I don't rightly reckon I got any at the moment, ma'am," Liam shrugged, after a moment's thought. "Keep workin', maybe save enough money to get me a piece o' land o' my own. Work some more so's I can build me a house. Work some more after that to get me an outfit."

"So you'd like to ranch, or farm, then? Eventually?" Inara asked.

"Well, maybe," Liam looked thoughtful. "Be honest, I kinda like the job I got. I enjoy travelin', and I've learned to work the black fair well. Reckon I'll stay at that long as I can." He looked at her, cautiously. "Ya'll ain't thinkin' on gettin' rid of the ships, are ya?"

"Heavens no!" Inara laughed at that. "Mal would rather part with an arm than give up _Serenity_," she went on. "And, he has spoken of leaving the sheriff's office as soon as the dust has settled, anyway. If he does, I expect him to go back to sailing the black, himself." She frowned at that, having never thought the idea completely through until that moment.

"You'd rather he didn't, though, wouldn't you ma'am?" Liam asked respectfully.

"Well, I'd never say that," Inara admitted. "I would never place that kind of burden on him. I would rather he stay here, all the time, it's true. But he'll do what he thinks is best, and I'll support that."

"Yes'm." Inara chuckled.

"You're very respectful, Liam. It's nice to see that in so young a man, especially these days."

"My ma'd skin me, or either of the ugly twins, if'n she heard we wasn't," Liam laughed. Inara looked puzzled.

"Ugly twins?"

"My brothers," Liam clarified. "They's what my pa calls 'Irish Twins', born less'n a year 'part. They quite a bit older'n me."

"Ah," Inara nodded, taking another sip of her tea. "I take it they picked on you, then?"

"Without let up," Liam laughed. "But they also taught me a lot, too. Don't get me wrong, they ain't never mistreated me. Call me 'the runt', on accouta they so much bigger'n I am. Reckon I won't never run to their size," he sighed.

` "You're not exactly a small man, Liam," Inara replied.

"No, but they're bigger'n Jayne, ma'am," Liam laughed. "Not as strong, I figure, but then Jayne's a right strong man."

"That he is," Inara smiled. "You like Jayne a great deal, don't you?"

"Yes'm," Liam nodded. "Jayne's taught me 'bout all I know about guns, the black, and things like that. And he's always a help when I need it."

"I know he approves of you a great deal," Inara shared. Liam blushed a bit at that, but nodded.

"I'm glad."

"So tell me about things between you and Chelsa," Inara requested, once again catching the young man off guard.

"Uh, what. . .I mean, that is, what would you like ta know?" Liam managed to stammer out. Inara fought to hold back a laugh at his discomfiture.

"Well, I know you two go out whenever you're on Astra," said Inara. "And I know that both Jayne and River think highly of you as suitor for her. Mal and I do as well, you know," she added.

"Thank you, ma'am," Liam replied carefully.

"I just wondered how far you two had thought things through?" Inara pressed on.

"We ain't really got passed the 'goin' out' stage, as yet, ma'am," Liam shrugged. "Jayne pointed out a while back we ain't that old, so we got time to just enjoy things like they are."

"That's very true," Inara nodded.

"Reckon I better go have a look around, ma'am," Liam announced. He rose, setting his glass on the small table. "I'll be nearby, if you have need o' me."

"I know," Inara smiled. "I think supper will be ready soon. Chelsa is cooking."

"I'll be there," Liam nodded. With that he was off the porch, moving quietly around the property. Inara watched him go, smiling.

_Oh, Liam. You have so much to learn._

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"Way to a man's heart is always through his stomach, dear," Mrs. Blalock was saying as Inara walked into the kitchen.

"Momma says the way to a man's heart is between the fourth and fifth ribs, just under. . . ."

"Chelsa!" Inara caught her. "I don't think that's applicable for this particular lesson."

"Yes, Miss Inara," Chelsa nodded.

"Do I want to know?" the older woman asked Inara.

"Not even a little," Inara assured her.

"Well, anyway, the secret to a good chili. . . ." Inara noted the way that Chelsa paid close attention. _Yes, Liam, you have a great shock coming to you, soon._

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Wart came around slowly, still groggy from his sedation. He finally managed to focus his eyes a bit, only to see Butler Tarrant looking at him carfully.

"What're you doin' here?" he asked gruffly.

"I love you too, you sawed off little goblin," Goldie shot back. "Here I been pinin' away over you, thinkin' you'd be goin' to your maker 'thout me ever havin' had the chance to reveal my true feelin's for ya, and. . . ."

"Shut up, you idjit," Wart growled. "How's Susan?" he asked.

Goldie's face tightened a bit, and Wart's frown grew.

"I asked you a question, Goldilocks."

"She's stable," Goldie said flatly. "She. . .she was bad hurt, Pete. Simon took right good care of'er though, and she's outta surgery. Ain't gonna lie, she's still in some danger, but Simon's been right there with her the whole time. Says if she makes it through the next day, she's like to recover good."

"If?"

"Still touch and go," Goldie admitted with a shrug. "She had part o' the door bolt go through her helmet. Didn't break her skull, just cracked it a little, concussed like. But it was a hard hit. And Simon had to saw her helmet off'er. She's lost a good bit o' blood, what between that and some other shrapnel wounds, but Simon's got all that fixed up."

"She's so 'fixed up', what's all this _go se_ 'bout if she makes it?" Wart demanded.

"She lost a _lot_ o' blood, Wart," Goldie emphasized. "And that rap on the noggin ain't a little thing. Simon's worried about if her brain was to swell, like, on account of it. It ain't though, as yet. That's why he's still worryin'. And why he says that 'bout the next day or so. Way I understand it, if she ain't started to have problems by then, she likely ain't gonna."

"I wanna see'er."

"Ain't gonna happen, brother," Goldie shook his head. "Even if you was able to go, which you _ain't_, mind, she's in the ICU. Ain't nobody but the doc's and nurses allowed in there. And 'fore you ask," he went on, holding up a hand to forestall Wart's objection, "they don't bend them rules for nobody, and that includes Mal. I done checked. Somethin' 'bout keepin' the room bug free, or some such." Wart glared at him for a minute, then sighed.

"How 'bout me?" he asked.

"Well, you got staked," Goldie grinned. "'Sposed ta kill vampires, but it missed ya heart, so we still gotta put up with ya. Seriously, you was hard hit, but the wood missed anything important, cept fer slashin' your lung a bit. You bled a bunch, but otherwise you was okay. Be a while mendin', I reckon, and that arm may pain ya some, but you're in the clear."

"Toby? Rolo?"

"Toby's okay. Burst a ear drum, broke some ribs, but he's okay. Rolo. . .Rolo didn't make it, Wart. Blast took him full on, 'corrdin' ta Toby. I. . .it shredded him pretty good. Like as not, he never knew what hit'im." Wart looked pained for a minute. Rolo had been with them a long time. He had been a good man, and a good friend.

"Ping found the Marshal, though," Goldie added, trying to brighten things as much as he could. "She's still screamin' her head off, so I hear, but she's safe. Don't think she's tracking okay at the moment, but considerin' what she went through, don't see that's a surprise."

"Guess not," Wart grunted, his thoughts on Susan. "You sure I can't just. . . ."

"I really did ask," Goldie shook his head. "Knew you'd wanna. But it's no go, brother. Mal hinted to Simon that he oughta let ya, but Simon ain't budgin'. Said tell ya it's safer this way, and try an' understand. He's workin' hard on her, Wart. Leave him do his thing. She couldn't be in better hands, and you know that. If she can be saved, he'll do it."

"Yeah," Wart nodded slightly, if grudgingly. "So what else is happenin' whilst I been out? How long _have_ I been out, by the way?"

"Well. . . ." Goldie proceeded to fill Wart in on things, hoping to take his friend's mind off of Blade, even for a little while. He hoped it worked.

He knew it wouldn't for him, if it was Zoe.

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"Never saw his face!" Reeves was rocking back and forth on her bed, knees drawn up to her chest. "He spoke to me. Told me I was special. Big plans for me. Famous. Make me famous."

"Reeves you have to snap out of this," Bailey said patiently. "I was hoping that you could recall something from the time he held you that would help us."

"Wasn't supposed to be able to take me," she looked up at him. "Plenty of people, all around me. How did he get me? How could you let him get me?.

"I wasn't one of the men who let him take you," Bailey said, exasperated. "And this entire operation was laid on when you and your office knew that a new team was being assembled. You have no one to blame or this but yourself."

"Doing my job," Reeves whispered. "Protect and serve. Better me than them. No help, no help. Just me. Left me alone."

"Look," he leaned forward, about to grab her shoulder. Reeves recoiled in horror, her eyes wide.

"_Don't touch me! Get away! Leave me alone!_" Reeves screamed at him. Bailey nodded.

"As you wish," he started for the door. "But you should know that you will be subject to suspension and review as soon as you're released from a doctor's care. I doubt you'll be able to save your job."

"_Get away!_"

Bailey ducked out of the room, barely escaping a hurled bedpan which clanged against the door, then rattled around on the floor. He turned, only to be face to face with Malcolm Reynolds.

"Make friends everywhere you go, don'tcha?" Mal asked, smiling slightly.

"I'm just doing my job, Sheriff," Bailey managed not to growl. It grated on him something fierce that Guilford had called the Planetary Governor about his attempts to take over the investigation. He had received a very unpleasant call from his boss not twenty minutes afterward. _Very_ unpleasant.

"And doin' a mighty fine job, too," Mal nodded. "Manage to get anything useful from Miss Reeves? A'fore she threw the bed pan, o' course," he couldn't resist adding.

"No."

"You know, she's been through a traumatic experience," Mal said, more serious than before. "You might take that into consideration, next time you talk to her. If she don't nail you soon's you walk in, that is."

"I'll keep that in mind," Bailey growled, walking away.

"Hope so." Mal watched Bailey go, then peeked into Reeves' room.

"I said get. . . .!" she broke off, seeing Mal. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"No problem," Mal assured her. He picked up the bed pan and set it back where it belonged. "Case you need it again," he grinned.

"Don't let him get me," Reeves pleaded. "Make him stay away." Her pleading look made Mal blink. Was she that bad?.

"I'll try and make sure he don't come back," Mal promised. "I wanted to see how you were doing, that's why I came by."

"Doing? I don't know how I'm doing. I am doing, I guess," she rambled a bit. "I can't. . .I'm still so scared it's hard to even think straight."

"I know how it feels," Mal nodded. "Had a man cut my ear off, one time, tryin' ta see the 'real me', as he put it. Lucky for me, my crew came and got me, and Simon put my ear back on. Still hurts from time to time," he confided. "But it works."

"Where you scared?" Reeves asked softly, not looking up.

"Terrified," Mal assured her with a firm nod. "Hard not to be, man torturin' ya, 'fore he decides to end ya. But, if I had let on, let him see it, I don't know that he wouldn't o' killed me straight out."

"I wasn't so good at hiding my fear," Reeves told him, looking down at her sheet. "I. . .well, I just wasn't."

"Different situation," Mal shrugged. "My crew knew where I was. Just had to find a way to get to me. And they did. I didn't have it near so bad as you. How are you, by the way?"

"I have some serious infections," Reeves told him. "Where my legs had been cut on, and then. . .where I. . . ." She blushed a bit.

"I get it," Mal nodded. "I assume they're takin' care o' all that."

"Yeah," she sighed. "Doctor Tam told me that it was serious, but not life threatening. He has me on some very strong anti-biotic's," she held up the arm with the IV line. "I should be okay in a few days. Week at most, he thinks, if nothing else goes wrong."

"Simon's a top flight doctor," Mal nodded. "If he tells ya somethin', you can bet on it."

"So he's the one who sewed your ear back on," Reeves mused.

"He is that," Mal grinned. "More'n once I wanted to toss him outta the air lock, but right glad I didn't." Reeves actually laughed at that.

"He is a little uptight," she nodded, seeming to come out of her shell a bit more.

"No, you just think he is," Mal chuckled. "Had you known him before, you'd think he was down right laid back, nowadays."

Mal and Reeves sat talking for a good few minutes, Mal never asking her directly about her ordeal. She talked, and even laughed, and by the time Mal left her she seemed to be feeling better.

And had told Mal everything she could remember about what had happened to her, without ever thinking about it.

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_He watched as Marshal's poured around, in and out of the local sheriff's office. The cavalry at last, he laughed mentally. He had a surprise for them. But not now. No, not just now._

_They could have their Marshal back, he decided. She had served her purpose. Possibly even better than had she died on camera. He really couldn't have timed it any better, he decided, had he been trying to._

_Now he would wait. Patience was a virtue, and he had it to spare. He would allow them to think he was gone. Relax a bit. Yes, let them believe their terror was over, for now. Let things ease back to normal. _

_When it did, he'd have a special work waiting for them all. Something spectacular. Breathtaking, even. _

_Then, the real terror would begin._


	22. Chapter 22

Sins of the Past – Chapter Twenty Two

Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.

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Blade awoke two days after the incident. She was awake for only a moment, but she was awake. Simon was there, with her, as it happened.

"Wha. . .?" she tried, but there was a tube down her throat, and her mouth felt like cotton.

"Don't try to talk, Blade," Simon hurried to her side. "I had to intubate you, to help you breath, so there's a tube in your throat. Can you squeeze my hand? To let me know you can hear me?" Simon felt a steady pressure on his hand.

"That's good, that's good," Simon smiled. "Okay, one squeeze for yes, two for no, okay? Can you see clearly?" Two squeezes. Simon frowned.

"Is your vision blurred?" One squeeze.

"Is it blurred like it would be when you first wake up?" One squeeze. Excellent.

"Okay, that's good. You're doing great. Are you in pain, right now?" One very long, very hard squeeze.

"On a scale of one to ten, one squeeze closer to one, two closer to ten, tell me how bad you're hurting." Blade waited for a minute, then squeezed once, then a second time, more briefly.

"Okay, so about a seven or eight?" Simon asked. One Squeeze.

"That's normal, Susan," Simon sighed in relief. "You had a head injury. The injury wasn't terribly bad, but it was difficult to treat. You're going to be sore for a while. I need to keep you comfortable, and you have to stay still. Do you want me to sedate you?" Multiple squeezes.

"Wart is fine," Simon told her, wishing he had done it sooner. "He's recovering. He may kill me soon if I don't let him in here to see you, but it will have to wait another day or so. I have to make sure that you don't get an infection, and that you don't suffer any bleeding inside your skull. Is that okay? Can I tell him you're on my side? I might live longer," he chuckled. One firm squeeze. Blade's eyes were clearing, and she looked at him.

"You're going to be okay, Susan," Simon told her flatly. "I've worked too hard on you," he laughed. "Oh, they found the Marshal. If it hadn't been for you guys, they wouldn't have. I thought you might want to know that." Her hand fluttered, as if waving it away.

"I don't like her either," Simon nodded, and he could have sworn Blade almost laughed. She shook his hand, and Simon looked again at her eyes. She wanted more information. . . .

"Everything is fine. Your injuries were the worst I had to deal with," he didn't quite lie. Telling her about Rolo wouldn't help her. "Wart is already moaning and complaining about everything from the food to the temperature in his room." Again she almost laughed, he thought.

"Do you want me to keep you sedated a while longer?" he asked again. "I know you may not like it, but I really need you to be still for at least one more day. I have to make sure that you don't start bleeding." One squeeze, reluctant.

"I understand," he nodded in sympathy. "At least it will make the time go by faster." She slapped his hand lightly, but her eyes were finally bright.

"Okay, try and rest. I'll be here off and on, and I promise, I'll take good care of you." With that, he pushed the sedation into her IV. She was under in less than a minute.

"She's a strong woman," the nurse said.

"You have no idea."

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"Susan is fine, Peter," Simon told the grumbling man. "I've got to keep her under for another day or so, to make sure she isn't going to start bleeding under her skull. She asked about you, and said to tell you to do what I say."

"I'll just bet," Wart grumbled.

"Well, she did," Simon nodded. "Now, as to you. I need that arm immobilized for another few days. If you try and use it, it's possible that the movement would start you bleeding again. You're lucky, so very lucky. Don't take that for granted."

"Awright," Wart grumbled. Again.

"She really is going to be okay, I think," Simon told him, quieter now, and more gentle. "I'm not going to lie, she was injured quite severely. I was able to repair the damage, and her recovery will take a while. But, she will recover, so long as she doesn't start inter-cranial bleeding. That's why I'm keeping her sedated, and still."

"If she does?" Wart asked.

"Then I'll fix it," Simon told him firmly. "That's what I do."

"Awright," Wart nodded. "Shade trusts ya, so reckon I will, too."

"What a sterling character reference," Simon snorted.

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"I'm tired o' bein' here and I wanna go _home_!" Mal chuckled as he heard Toby Bontrager's voice echoing up the hall of the hospital.

"You can't go home until at least tomorrow, Toby. Period." he heard Simon reply. Boy had grown a spine somewhere along the way, Mal decided.

_Havin' Jayne fer a brother-in-law'll cause that, I reckon_, he smiled to himself. He walked in just as Toby was starting again.

"I don't wanna be. . .Mal! Tell this little peckerhead that I don't have to stay here!" he cut off as Mal walked into the room.

"He don't have to stay here," Mal dead panned, winking at Simon.

"He doesn't make those decisions," Simon snorted, folding his arms across his chest.

"Trouble?" Mal asked, grinning in spite of himself.

"He's a worse patient that you are," Simon murmured.

"Ouch," Mal winced. "That's bad, Toby."

"I don't care," Toby went to fold his arms, then winced, and caught himself.

"See?" Simon almost preened. "_That_'s why you can't go home. Those ribs are still knitting. Yes, they've been mended, but they're still weak. If one breaks again, it could puncture your lung. You're lucky that didn't happen this time."

"Fine," Toby grumped. "Reckon I ain't got no choice, no how."

"You don't," Simon nodded. "I'll leave you two to. . .whatever it is you do to amuse yourselves, when you aren't needling your betters. Namely, me." He walked out before either could frame a retort.

"Boy's come a long way," Mal shook his head.

"Too far," Toby grumbled.

"Dry up," Mal ordered. "That boy is the best doctor anywhere around, likely one of the top ten in the whole damn 'verse. He says you do somethin', you need to do it."

"Said the pot to the kettle!" Toby snapped.

"Okay, I maybe deserved that," Mal laughed. "Give him some slack. He's just tryin' to make sure ya heal up proper."

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Jayne and River arrived back on Argo in time for Rolo's funeral. It wasn't a big turnout, since most of the people on the moon who knew him were still in the hospital. All of the deputies and their families attended, as did the family of Reynolds' Shipping. The members of the Parish Commission were also present.

Ping had made sure his friend of many years was put to rest as he'd asked, with his rifle at his side. Some raised eyebrows at that, but Ping couldn't have cared less. Once the small service was ended, he left quietly, to mourn on his own. Mal told him to take some time off, and Ping had nodded silently.

As Mal and Inara were making their way back to their ground car, Mal saw Marge Triple heading toward him, several of her 'supporter's in tow. He sighed. Couldn't that woman leave well enough alone on a day like this.

"Sheriff, we'd like a moment of your time," the woman said, intercepting the couple. Mal held up a hand.

"Whatever it is you want, Commissioner, today ain't that day. I just laid one o' my men to rest, and got three more in the hospital. I'll be 'round the office tomorrow, so you can come see me then."

"Now look here. . . ." One of the men behind her started, but suddenly Jayne was behind Mal, Liam alongside. River and Chelsa trailed slightly behind.

"Problem, Captain?" Jayne rumbled, eyeing the man who'd spoken violently.

"No, no problem, Jayne," Mal smiled, relieved to see the two men. "Was just on my way home."

"We'll just tag along with you," Jayne nodded. "How 'bout you folks givin' the man some room," he ordered, placing himself between Mal and Inara and the 'gaggle' of townspeople.

"I need to speak to you Sheriff!" Triple insisted.

"Not today you don't," Jayne replied.

"What are you going to do?" the man who'd spoken earlier demanded. "Hit a lady?"

"Don't see no lady," Jayne quipped, and Triple's face went red. "But no, I don't aim to hit a woman."

"That's my job," River said, her voice ringing with sweetly secreted venom. "Excuse us, please," she glided around to take Mal's other arm. "This is family time, and you're intruding."

"Family?" the man snorted. "I know what family is, little girl. And your collection of miscreants is far removed from. . . ."

"Mister," Jayne's voice cut him off, "I'd think right hard on them words, 'fore you say anymore."

"Jayne," Mal said softly. "Let's just go home."

"Boy, girl, put Mal and Inara in the car, and take'em home," Jayne ordered. Liam and Chelsa flanked Mal and Inara at that order, Liam taking the side River had held. River moved to stand beside Jayne.

"Mal done tol' you," Jayne warned them, "come see him in his office. You ain't got the decency to let folk's mourn their dead, then you ain't much, nohow." All of them looked a tad shamefaced at that. Triple tried to rally, however.

"That man has no. . . ."

"I'll warn you, once," River suddenly grated, "not to speak ill of him in front of me. I won't warn you again." Triple opened her mouth, about to retort, when suddenly Braz Guilford and Harm Fuller walked up.

"Marge, can you not even attend a funeral of a deputy who fell in the line of duty without causing a problem?" he shook his head sadly. "I would have thought that even someone like you wouldn't make a scene on a day like this."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the surly man demanded. "Someone like her?"

"Someone like you, Charles," Fuller fielded that one. "Someone who is convinced that they are somehow superior to the rest of us. Someone who insists that everyone else view the world as you do. Go home. If you want to see the Sheriff, that's your right. But have the decency to do it somewhere other than hallowed ground where a brave man has just been laid to rest."

The man still looked surly, and Triple was on the verge of apoplexy it appeared, but the rest of her 'followers', eleven in all, looked shamefaced again, and began to abandon her.

"You'll pay for this!" she hissed at Jayne, and glared at River.

"Bet we don't," Jayne smirked. "But anytime you feel the need, come knocking."

"Cobb," Guilford raised a hand. "Just ignore them. They aren't worth the time. Go home. Be with your family." Jayne nodded, and he and River headed for their own vehicle, one they had recently purchased.

"You may think you have the upper hand for now," Triple glared at the other two commissioners, "but you've made a grave mistake."

"No, Marge, you have," Fuller replied evenly. "We'll see you at the meeting, by the way."

"What meeting?" Triple was taken aback.

"The emergency budget meeting tomorrow night, of course," Fuller smiled. "Surely you were planning on being there. We're going to have to juggle the budget a bit, I'm afraid. You'll want to be there to represent your district."

The two men sauntered away, leaving the woman and her remaining supporter to stew on that.

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The next two weeks rolled by in a blur. Mal never did hear from Triple, and didn't go seeking her out. He figured if she wanted to see him, she'd have to come to him.

Wart and Toby had been released from the hospital, and were recovering well. Blade was still in the hospital, but was at last in a regular room, which Wart rarely left. Simon didn't object, since it meant he didn't have to look for the gunman when it was time to check on him.

Things were quiet. Despite not having Toby, Mal was able to work regular hours for once, and was getting more rest. With the department again short handed, several deputies had volunteered to make up the shortage by working overtime shifts. The rustlers captured during the search for the Slasher had been convicted, and shipped off to prison. For once, the jail was even mostly empty, save for a few drunks and brawlers.

With no further victims found, no further missing persons reported, it was widely believed that the Slasher had left the moon, and gradually the edge began to come off everyone. The 'task force' was scaled back to just three people, who were mostly sifting through evidence and reports, and following up on witness interviews. Haimes had been allowed to keep his job, albeit after a fifteen day suspension. Bonds was suspended and placed in an anger management program.

Reeves wasn't quite useless, but was never-the-less unable to work. She was undergoing psychiatric care. Her prognosis wasn't bad, exactly, but the odds of her recovering completely, being able to function as she had before, was questionable at best.

Time passed, another two weeks, with still nothing.

The family of Reynolds' Shipping went about their work as always. Despite the calm, Jayne and Goldie never relaxed their vigil. After two more weeks of nothing, that vigilance was beginning to wear thin on certain members of the group.

"_Gorram it_!" Zoe exclaimed. "I am a grown woman, Butler Tarrant, and I reckon if I want to go into town with other grown women, I damn well can go without an escort!"

"But Zoe. . ."

"No. No buts. Ain't nothin' happened here in over a month, and I'm sick o' this. Me, Inara, River, and Kaylee are going into town, _alone_, and have a good time. We ain't been able to all be together for anything but a crisis in months. And you _ain't comin' along!_"

"Jayne your concern is appreciated, and noted," River was saying, just across the pad, onboard _Companion_. "But we are fully grown and functioning adults, more than capable of making decisions for ourselves, and looking out for ourselves as well. We _are_ going, _you _are not, and that is that!"

"But River. . . ."

"I do not wish to discuss this further!"

And this was how Jayne and Goldie came to be skulking in a car across the street from Ritzi's Bar and Grill, trying to keep an eye out for the women of Reynolds' Shipping, without being seen themselves.

"_Gorram_ it!" Goldie swore. "You can't even protect people, 'thout ya gotta hide out to do it! Stubborn ass women folk."

"Yeah," Jayne nodded in commiseration. "Tried to explain why it's needful, only to get an earful of woman speak that basically means 'Ima do what Ima do, and you ain't gonna say otherwise'."

"Where's Mal?" Goldie demanded. "And Simon? How is it _we_ get this detail, and no one else."

"Mal ain't able, and you know it," Jayne replied. "And Simon? Why would you want to make this any worse by havin' him in the back seat, talkin' 'bout some _go se_ neither o' us can understand."

"Speak for yourself, uneducated barbarian," Goldie sniffed at that. "I happen to have gone to a good school."

"For how long?" Jayne demanded.

"Not the point," Goldie waved the question away. "Besides, them charges was never proven, and the insurance built the buildin' back."

"Uh huh."

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"Still out there?" Zoe asked.

"Yes," River nodded, sighing. "I know they mean well. . . ."

"Ain't the point," Zoe waved her hand. "It's time they accepted the fact that things is back to normal."

"Are they?" River asked, as Inara and Kaylee discussed baby things.

"You don't think so?" Zoe asked, eyeing River warily.

"I don't know," River shrugged. "It seems unlikely that such an individual would just give up. That bothers me a great deal."

"Does it bother you as a woman, and potential victim, or as a reader who might know more than the average person?" Zoe asked, concern creeping into her voice.

"I have no. . .insight, if that's what you mean," River admitted, almost reluctantly, Zoe thought. "But there is a nagging feeling, more like an insistent tugging at the back of my mind. I can't seem to catch it. I don't like that."

"I don't neither," Zoe agreed. "But, it's been near on six weeks."

"So it has."

"Hey, you two!" Kaylee cut in. "What'cha think about Inara's idea?"

Reluctantly the two of them returned to the larger conversation. Both uneasy for different reasons.

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_He examined his work, pleased with himself. An artist was only as good as his canvas, and this canvas was quite wonderful. Not in the same league as the one he coveted most, of course, but for his purposes tonight it was perfect. A bold, startling statement. An announcement that screamed 'NO. YOU AREN'T SAFE. NOT AT ALL'._

_Placing the finishing touches on his work, he stood back, taking in the view. Oh, yes, this was wonderful. A work to rival any he had ever done._

_He still tasted the thrill of it hours later, as he once more turned invisible to those around him, savoring the days to come._

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"I guess it was too good to be true," Mal murmured to himself, looking at the crime scene. It bothered him that he'd reached a point that he could look on something so vile and not risk his stomach revolting.

"Sir, we've been right careful," Leander Greggs told him. "But. . .well, ain't none of us really detectives. I. . .we, don't really know what to do."

"Don't worry about it," Mal told him, as a Marshal's shuttle swooped overhead, turning to set down near the scene. "The 'task force' has arrived. I'm sure they'll wanna do everything themselves anyway. Get the rest back out on patrol. Keep one man here 'sides yourself, for security."

"Yes, sir," Leander nodded. He went quietly among the several deputies, ordering them back to work. He and Ryan no longer worked as partners. With so many men gone, they were now two of Mal's most experienced deputies. He had made them sergeants.

Bailey was the first one off the shuttle, walking briskly toward Mal. He was followed by three other people, one of which Mal recognized as the forensics specialist that had tried to help them earlier. She waved to him, then headed for the crime scene.

"Sheriff," Bailey nodded curtly in greeting.

"Marshal," Mal returned the nod, but said nothing else. Bailey waited, and when Mal didn't offer anything, his face flushed.

"Anything to tell us?" he asked, not quite grating.

"What could we be tellin' you?" Mal asked politely.

"You can tell me you haven't disturbed the crime scene."

"We haven't," Mal assured him. "This is your case, not ours. We secured the scene, and called you. End of our involvement."

"We'll need your manpower," Bailey said stiffly.

"Give you all I can, but it won't be much," Mal shrugged. "Down four men at the moment. We ain't a big department. I've got two men assigned here right now, includin' Sergeant Greggs." Mal nodded toward Leander.

"We'll need more than that."

"Ain't happenin', less you actually find the man what did it," Mal told him. "Told you, ain't got the manpower. And ain't rightly got the budget for the overtime no more. We spent most of it tryin' to catch the man ourselves, and then savin' your deputy for you." Mal let that dig out quietly.

"Sheriff, just because you know the Governor. . . ."

"I don't know the Governor," Mal cut him off. "And either way, I can't give ya what I ain't got myself. That's just cold hard facts. Told ya we'll do all we can, and we will. But I can't spare any more men just to do your runnin' and fetchin'. Have to do it yourself, like us reg'lar folks." Mal straightened slightly.

"Now, if that's all, I'll be leavin' ya to it." Mal looked once more at the sight.

Twins. Identical twins. Had once been pretty girls. Once. Sighing, he walked to his car. He would be glad when he could step down from this job. But that would have to wait until Toby was back at work. There just wasn't anyone else to hand things off to at the moment. Mal wouldn't walk off and leave the parish hanging like that. He just couldn't.

But going back to being a ship captain was looking more and more appealing all the time.

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The town, the _parish_, were stunned. The crews of Reynolds' Shipping no less so than any one else.

"I thought he was gone," Zoe murmured softly, as Mal delivered the news.

"We all did," Mal sighed, stretching his leg out as he reclined at the table. They were all assembled in _Serenity's_ galley. _Companion_ was scheduled to leave later in the evening. Everyone was present for the impromptu meeting.

"I told you not to under estimate him," Jayne shook his head. "This guy is _smart_."

"He is that," Mal nodded. "And wily to boot. Whole parish is like to be up in arms, once this is wide spread."

"Well, at least you ain't takin' the blame," Goldie shrugged. "It's the Marshal's show, now. They can take the heat. Should'a been from the beginnin'."

"Yeah, shoulda," Mal nodded. "But that ain't how it works. I'll get a good share o' the blame."

"Don't see what they's got to blame you for," Jayne objected. "All the women have been taken elsewhere. He's using you for a dumping ground, but for all we know, even the actual murders are being done long ways from here."

"I ain't sayin' it's right, just sayin' it is," Mal shrugged. "Won't matter none, in the long run. Once this is done, I'm steppin' down, anyway. Time to let someone else take care o' this. I never was rightly qualified anyway."

"You've done a fine job, sir," Zoe shook her head. "Parish is a better place with you as Sheriff than without."

"Indeed," River dipped her oar in the water. "Stepping down is your decision of course," she added. "But the Parish will be the worse for it."

"Thanks, Zo'. 'Tross," Mal smiled. "But the fact is, after the explosion, I ain't doin' so well. Might be it's time for me to sit back and live quietly for a while." That drew a collective snort from everyone in the room.

"You might be doing better if you _followed your doctor's instructions,_" Simon told him bluntly.

"I tried to, Simon," Mal replied. "Hadn't been for what happened to Toby and the others, I'd still be home, recovering. Without Toby, I can't. There's just not anyone else to run things right now."

"You oughta look for a new investigator," Goldie shrugged. "Promote Toby to Chief Deputy, or Assistant Sheriff. Give you time to groom him to take your place, maybe." Mal pursed his lips, thinking about that one.

"That's not a bad idea," he admitted. "Hadn't thought along them lines. Think I'll look into that."

"I released Toby to return to work this afternoon," Simon added. "He should be there in the morning."

"That's good news," Mal smiled. "Can start on that groomin' thing," he chuckled.

"In the meanwhile, what will you do about the 'Slasher'?" River asked, making air quotes with her hands.

"Nothin' for me to do, River," Mal told her. "I'm out of it. We provide security for the sight, and a couple men to help the Marshals. It's their job. Their case. Their problem."

"Everyone's problem," River frowned. "So long as he is allowed to run free, no one on this moon is truly safe."

"That's true," Mal admitted. "But there ain't over much I can do about it."

"Perhaps you could set a trap for him," River offered. "Maybe entice him into making a mistake."

"Think he's too smart for that," Mal shook his head. "And he's certainly too smart for it to work now, after that stunt with Reeves.

"True," River nodded slowly.

"Well, I gotta get along," Mal said, standing. "Wanted you all to know, though. Best be on guard. Again."

"Thanks for the warning, sir," Zoe nodded. She looked at Jayne.

"When are you heading out?" River eased away as Jayne spoke to Zoe.

"About two hours, give or take," he replied. "We had just finished loading when word came for the meeting. We'll get everything set, and head on out." Zoe nodded.

With that the meeting broke up. River, after slipping away from the others, had followed Mal outside. Once there, she spoke with him quietly for a few moments. Mal listened, shaking his head violently. River responded with reasoning, and patience.

"It ain't happenin'." Mal was resolute.

"You may have no choice," River told him. "Consider it. That's all I ask. You know that I am right, and that it will work."

"I have, and the answer's no."

"Sooner or later you will have to resort to something new. When that time comes, remember this conversation."

"Not a chance in hell," Mal said bluntly. "Ever."

"And do not mention this to Jayne," she added. "He has enough worries as it is."

"I won't, cause I don't remember what you said."

"You will," River told him, heading for _Companion._ "You will."


	23. Chapter 23

Sins of the Past – Chapter Twenty Three

Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.

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Bickford Parish was under siege. Three weeks, nine victims. And, starting with the twins, Katie and Karly Anderson, all of _these_ victims were from Bickford Parish.

Mal knew true despair. His men were wore to a frazzle. He had assigned Leander Greggs and four deputies to Bailey's task force full time. All the others were working twelve hour shifts, and no one had enjoyed a day off in the last three weeks. Blade and Wart were recovering at home. Toby was back to work, but it didn't take much to tire him out. He needed time to build his strength back. With the Marshal's handling the killings, Toby was able to do more of the routine work, and that helped.

Mal was under siege himself as more and more people began to demand results. He was helpless to give them. No matter how hard he tried, nothing worked. The Slasher outsmarted them at every hand's turn. Giving the devil his due, Bailey was working as hard as anyone, and had received four more deputy Marshals to help him. But there simply wasn't anything to find. The man was a ghost, it had been said more than once. He left no clues, no trail, nothing.

Braz Guilford and Harm Fuller had come to see Mal just that morning. They were a bit shamefaced, but admitted that pressure was growing against Mal, and there was little they could do about it at this juncture.

"Don't waste the time tryin'," Mal had told them. "I'm gonna resign, soon as Toby is well enough to take over. I'd rather see this through, though. If we can catch the bastard, or at least run him off, them that's one thing that Toby won't have to answer for."

Both men agreed this was a good idea, and that they would begin floating Toby's name around as a possible replacement for Mal.

"I dislike doing this," Braz told him. "You've done a great deal for us."

"It's only what you do today that counts, though," Mal shrugged. "No one cares about yesterday. This maniac has done this time after time, and no one has ever been able to stop him. Ever."

"I'm sorry, Mal," Fuller said, his voice ringing with sincerity. "It hadn't ought to be that way."

"Like I said, don't matter no way," Mal had told him. "I'm done, one way or t'other. I've had a belly full of this. I'm just waitin' for Toby to get back to speed, and hopefully for this to end, one way or 'nother." He had mentioned his hiring an investigator, and promoting Toby to Chief. Both men liked the idea, and told him to go ahead and start looking.

Mal sat looking out his window, now, wishing he had never taken this job. If he hadn't, Kathy Baker would still be alive. So would several others, in all likelihood. He wouldn't be crippled. Blade and Wart mightn't be hurt, with Rolo dead. The list of what if's was nearly endless.

_But I did manage to do some good,_ he allowed to himself. And he had. He wondered how many other men had left office after the killer had struck their town. No way to know, he figured.

He was startled from his reverie by his inter-com.

"Sheriff? Mrs. Cobb is here to see you." Mrs, Cobb? Who in the. . .oh.

"Send her in." River walked in just seconds later. She sat down, looking at him closely.

"How are you, _Baba_?" she asked.

"I'm tired, little one," Mal admitted. Wasn't no point in lyin' to River. Didn't work no how.

"It shows," she nodded. "I told you there would come a time when you would have to try something else. Don't you think that time has come?"

"I told you then, and I'll repeat it now. That ain't happenin'," Mal said stiffly. "Forget it."

"I cannot," River replied evenly. "I have noted the victims appearance, _Baba_. They look remarkably familiar."

"I know they do," Mal nodded. "Been knowin' it a while now. Was one reason I made sure Jayne knew ever'thing there was to know. Just in case."

"Then you realize I am the perfect bait," she pointed out, keeping her voice calm. Reasonable.

"No, you ain't."

"Yes, I am," River continued. "You know it, I know it. I am not another Reeves, _Baba_. I have no interest in fame, nor glory. I have no aspirations to a higher place. But I do want to be safe in my home. And, I want Chelsa to be safe, as well. She also matches the victim's profile. Not so closely as I do, perhaps, but close enough to catch his eye at some point."

"He'll like as not be gone 'fore then," Mal hedged.

"I do not believe so," River shook her head. "By all the other evidence, he should already have gone. He is either waiting for something, or he intends to stay, and be a thorn here for many years. Nothing that has been tried so far has even come close to apprehending him. He no doubt feels very empowered by now. There is no reason for him to move on."

"Don't talk like that," Mal told her. "I want to catch him, River. But at this point, I'll take him just leavin'. Hate to end my watch as Sheriff on such a bad note, but I'd take it, and be glad."

"I know." River's voice was sad. Sympathetic. "The pressure against you will likely increase, however, before he may decide to leave. And if he see's you forced out of office, then he will be further emboldened. He may never stop." Mal's stunned expression told her clearly that he hadn't considered that. The last thing he wanted to do was _encourage_ the _hundan_.

"River, I can't do it," he told her. "And I won't. It's just too dangerous. Look what happened to Reeves. Ambitious or not, she was a trained and experienced law enforcement officer, surrounded by people just like her. And he still managed to take her. It was blind luck, and nothin' more that we found her a'fore she died in a horrible manner."

"They have all died in a horrible manner," River pointed out. "And while I may not be a trained and experienced law enforcement officer, I _am_ a highly trained and experienced assassin. He cannot possibly know that."

"How can you be so sure?" Mal demanded. "We don't know a _gorram_ thing about him! For all you know, he knows exactly who you are!" River nodded.

"That is true, but the odds are very long. I have changed much in appearance. And I no longer use my own name. More importantly, I am someone who is capable of fighting him. And winning."

"He got a needle into Reeves and she was gone in a second," Mal shot back. "What happens if he gets you the same way? Or what if he knows that phrase that knocks you stone cold out? None o' your fancy assassin skills would help you then."

"That is always a possibility," she admitted. "One I have considered, in fact. But with proper diligence, and support, he should not be able to 'take' me, no matter what the situation."

"I intend to do this," River said bluntly. "I would like your help, and your support. But I will do it, with or without it. He has to be stopped."

"And you reckon Jayne will just let you saunter off, do ya?" Mal almost sneered. "I don't see that happenin'."

"He will not like it," she admitted. "But I believe this must be done. I have given this a great deal of thought. I have calculated all possible outcomes. There is a chance that I will fail, of course, but it is a very small chance. I believe the odds are sufficiently in my favor to warrant the attempt."

Mal sighed, leaning back into his chair. He was so tired. His head had been hurting before River had even arrived. It was nearly bursting now. He wasn't sure he'd ever been more tired, in more pain, than he was these days.

_Maybe in Serenity Valley_, he allowed. _Maybe._

"Please don't do this," Mal begged quietly. "I've lost so much, River. I can't lose you too. Please." She reached out, patting his hand.

"You won't lose me," she promised.

"I will," Mal's voice broke. "You. . .somethin'll go wrong. It will. This is a bad idea. Don't do it."

"I have to," River told him softly. "I cannot sit idly by, anymore, when I may be able to help. I have to try."

"No, you don't," Mal objected. "Let the Marshals. . . ."

"As you, yourself, have pointed out, the Marshal's haven't managed to do anything that you and your men haven't. Less, in fact, since it was you who rescued Reeves. We have to do something. _I_ have to do something."

Mal felt defeated. He couldn't stop her. He knew that. In the years he had known her, she had always been able to get around whatever obstacle was in her path. If he didn't agree to help, she _would_ do it on her own. And fail. At least with their help, she might succeed. Or at least survive.

"You must decide," River said, rising. "Chelsa is an adequate pilot, and Inara has yet to open her school. They can take my place while I try to catch him. I will not be leaving on the ship when she makes her next run."

"I will tell the others tonight. You should be there." With that, she left.

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"We have more _gorram_ meetin's now than we did 'fore Mal left," Jayne muttered. He was helping to clear the table in the galley, while Liam and Chelsa broke out extra chairs. The meeting would be on _Companion_ tonight. _Serenity_ had put in just three hours ago. Everyone would be here.

"It's just a meeting, _ai ren_," River said absently. It was time to tell Jayne her plan. Just as she was about to speak to him, Goldie and Zoe came up, followed by Rebecca Phillips, and Gerry Frye.

"What we meetin' for now?" Goldie grumbled right away, earning him an elbow from Zoe.

"Ow!"

"Shut it," she ordered. "Need any help?" she asked of Jayne.

"Nah, here comes Liam and Chelsa with the chairs." The youngsters arrived with the extra chairs from below, and set them around the table. Just as they finished, Mal and Inara walked up, followed by Simon and Kaylee. Everyone was now present.

"Evenin' everyone," Mal said. He was tired, and it showed. There was a shadow on his face that mere rest wouldn't erase, too. Zoe looked at him in concern.

"You okay, sir?" she asked.

"Just tired," Mal smiled, and even that was tired. "Goin' home and sleep, soon's we're done here."

"Well, sooner we git started, sooner that is," Jayne said. "Wouldn't mind a night's shut-eye myself." Mal shot River a look, and she shook her head slightly.

_Great_, he thought._ She ain't told him yet._

"Everyone settle in," Mal said, trying to keep his unease from showing. "Hope this won't take long, but it's information ya'll need. And, might need your help, too." Zoe frowned at that, but nodded. Mal hadn't asked anything of them in a while. She would at least listen before she said anything one way or another. As everyone settled in, Mal started.

"You all know things ain't goin' well," he said. Heads nodded around the table. "Marshal's ain't gettin' no where, and we ain't neither. No matter what we try, we come up short. We gotta try something new." He paused, gathering his words.

"We're gonna try to bait him," he said all at once. "We're gonna offer him a target that we hope he can't say no to. Someone that fits his profile near perfect. With electronic surveillance, eyes on, the whole thing. Marshal's have offered tech support, and manpower to help us pull it off."

"What?" several voices asked in near unison.

"Sir, that's been tried," Zoe said carefully. "Near on lost Reeves over it. And she's pretty much gone, even though she's alive."

"It's too dangerous!" Inara exclaimed. She was as surprised as anyone.

"You can't play with this guy, Mal!" Goldie had stiffened. Jayne nodded in agreement, but said nothing. He was watching Mal closely.

"We ain't got much choice," Mal shrugged. "He ain't showin' no signs o' leavin', and the body count's climbin' pretty fast. Whole parish is near in a state o' panic. He'll just keep on killin', less we can find a way to stop him. And soon."

"Where you gonna get someone to play decoy?" Jayne asked, remembering not only how Reeves' attempt had turned out, but also how close they had come to losing Blade, years before.

"Had someone volunteer, actually," Mal shrugged. "She's a near perfect fit, to be truthful. Fit and able. I think he'll go for her, with the right circumstances. We just gotta try and set that up for him."

"Who in the world would volunteer for somethin' like that!" Kaylee gasped. She normally stayed silent at these kinda meetings.

"Me," River said softly, looking very hard at the table in front of her. Gasps erupted around the room, with Jayne and Simon coming to their feet at the same time.

"No," Jayne spoke first. "It ain't happenin'. Period." He looked at Mal, violence lurking in his eyes.

"You ain't got the right," he all but snarled. "And it ain't gonna happen. You want to set a trap, you find someone else. River ain't doin' it."

"Absolutely not," Simon agreed. "It's too dangerous. _Mei mei_, you can't do this," he pleaded.

"She ain't gonna," Jayne told him, his voice flat with finality. "Period."

"Something has to be done. Jayne," River told him, looking at him unflinchingly. "He has to be stopped. I am the best qualified to go after him." Jayne looked at her. River saw anger boiling beneath the surface. Anger, and something else she couldn't quite catch.

"I don't care," he said bluntly. "You ain't gonna do it. And you," he snarled at Mal. "I can't believe you'd even think about this."

"Actually. . . ." Mal began, but River held up a hand. She looked around the assembled members of their little family group, finally coming to rest on Jayne.

"It was my idea," she said quietly. "He has the choice of helping me, or I do it alone."

"You ain't doin' it _period_," Jayne snapped. "You're _feng le_ if you think I'm agreein' to this. It. Ain't. Happening."

"I have already made the decision, _Zhang fu_," River kept her voice calm. "I do not require your agreement. Or approval. I am going to do this. _Baba_ is under tremendous pressure. He needs to either catch the killer, eliminate him, or run him off. No one will be safe until it is done. This was my choice, my decision, and I have made it." Jayne's face froze for an instant, and then, without warning, his mask fell into place. His eyes went cold. Stark.

"So much for all that _go se_ 'bout how married folk make decisions together, then, huh?" he said calmly. Far too calmly. River felt uneasy. She had expected resistance. Anger, bellowing, demands. She hadn't expected this.

"This is too important to. . . ." River began, but trailed off as Jayne turned abruptly and headed toward the cargo bay.

"We ain't done yet, Jayne," Mal called after him.

"I am," Jayne's voice sounded like death. "I'm a shipper. That's what I do. Ain't no law man o' no kind. And, seein' as how I ain't a part o' the decision makin' _process_, like you seem to be, don't see that it's necessary for me to be here." Then he was gone. His heavy steps on the steel catwalk were clearly audible in the silence of the galley. River looked stunned. Of all the outcomes she had foreseen, this had not been one of them.

She ignored the round of protests that swelled up around the table. Mal was catching hell from Zoe, Inara, and Simon, while Kaylee was trying to beg River not to do it. Gerry and Becca decided to remain silent. Chelsa was so upset that she ran to her bunk. Liam looked torn, but finally followed her.

River ignored all of this, rising to her feet to pursue Jayne. She hurried into the cargo bay, expecting to see him lifting weights. He was no where in sight. She ran down the steps, and then down the ramp to the outside. She could see him in the falling light, standing off from the ship, near a stack of shipping crates that always seem to be there. She walked toward him.

"Jayne," she called. His response stopped her cold.

"What." That one word was filled with near rage. Waves of that rage buffeted her. His voice was cold. Icy cold. The voice of Shade. Not her Jayne. She trembled at that. She had never seen that coldness turned toward her. Ever.

"Jayne, please understand," she began.

"Oh, I understand," Jayne's voice never rose, and again she was assaulted by waves of emotion. Or the lack thereof. Rage, betrayal, and, most of all, the cold, empty, pitiless presence of Shade. The killer.

"I do not believe you do," River replied. "This must be done. I meant to tell you about it before everyone arrived, but they were early."

"Well, at least ya _meant_ ta tell me," he chuckled. It wasn't a nice sound. "I mean, here I was, thinkin' I merited some kinda special attention, bein' the husband an' all. Silly me, huh?" The sarcasm was heavy, but the cold, hard voice was worse.

"That isn't fair," River objected softly.

"Not fair?" his voice was incredulous. "How inconsiderate of me. Of course, I can see it more clearly now. It's unfair of me to be angry, but it was perfectly fine and fair for you to decide to make yourself a target for a _monster_, and then not even give me the benefit of tellin' me a'fore you told _everybody else_." The last words were ground out.

"I told you, I meant to, but there wasn't time before. . . ." She stopped. Jayne was moving away.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Wherever it is, there's gonna be whiskey available," he told her. "A lot of it. I'm gonna find a place to get blind drunk. Maybe start a fight. Don't wait up for me," he didn't quite sneer. "I've_ decided_ that I may stay out late, tonight."

"I wanted us to spend tonight together!" River protested. "I will begin tomorrow trying to catch the Slasher."

"Ain't gonna be good company, I imagine," Jayne told her flatly. "Spend it with Mal. You an' him prob'ly got some other decisions to make 'thout my input. No sense in me hangin' 'round."

"Jayne, please!" River was in tears. "Please don't go! We need to talk about this!"

"Seems to me the talkin's already been done," Jayne shrugged. "Without me bein' a party to it. Can't rightly see where there's anything to talk about, now. Seein' as how you done made the _decision_." The sense of hurt, of betrayal, buffeted her. She recoiled in spite of herself. Before she could gather herself for another plea, Jayne was gone, swallowed up by the darkness. Wrapping her arms about her, River began to cry.

She was still sitting outside, trembling, when Mal and Inara came out.

"What's wrong, 'Tross?" Mal asked. He and Inara went to her side.

"Calculations wrong," she murmured. "Feels betrayed. Cold now, where once there was warmth. Anger where once there was love. Out with the new, back with the old." Her rambling concerned Mal more than anything else.

"Where did Jayne go, River?" Inara asked. She was angry too, but far better than Jayne at not showing it. Of course, she reasoned, Jayne was probably far angrier than she was.

"Gone to imbibe the fire water and test prowess against others," she rambled.

"Gone to get drunk and get into a fight?" Mal asked, amazed that she was making perfect sense to him. River nodded, wracked with sobs.

"Miscalculated," she said again. "Equations wrong. Variables were not correctly entered into the problem. Outcome unseen because of flawed data gathering and input."

"Perhaps you should lie down, sweetie," Inara wrapped her arms around the shivering woman. "Come with me, and let's get you aboard. You can rest." River allowed Inara to lead her onto the ship, offering no resistance. Mal watched them go, then looked around. He needed to try and find Jayne.

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Jayne was over halfway through the bottle when Mal walked into Rosie's bar. He saw the big man, sitting alone at a table far from the other patrons. His face was a mask. Unreadable.

Jayne looked up as Mal approached. The look on his face never changed, and that worried Mal.

"Don't bother sittin' down," Jayne warned, as Mal placed his hand on the chair across from him. "You ain't stayin'."

"I am," Mal said, pulling out the chair and sitting down. Jayne looked at him with cold, dead, blue eyes.

"You don't wanna push me, Mal," he warned quietly. "Not tonight."

"Ain't," Mal shrugged. "Just thought we could talk a bit."

"Reckon I ain't got nothin' to say," Jayne replied, pouring another drink. He tossed it off in a gulp, and went to pour another. Mal reached the bottle first, and pulled it away. Jayne looked at him.

"Careful, Captain," he said softly. "Think you done took enough from me tonight."

"I ain't took nothin' from you, Jayne," Mal said, his voice much calmer than he felt. "This wasn't my idea."

"Yet you goin' along with it," Jayne looked at him.

"I can't stop her, Jayne," Mal shrugged. "And if I can't, then I have to help her." Jayne snorted.

"How hard did you try, Mal?" Jayne asked. "I mean, other than just askin' her not to? Ain't no secret the stress you're under. She ain't got no business doin' this, and you know it."

"Jayne, what can I do?" Mal asked. "I tried, I begged her not to do this. She plain told me, she'd do it with or without my help. And you know well as I do, when she gets set on somethin', she's gonna do it."

"You should have arrested her if ya had to," Jayne surprised him. "She's interfering in a police investigation. You had all kinds of ways to stop her. Didn't take none of'em." Mal was surprised.

"I didn't think on it like that," he shrugged. "She was offerin' ta help, and. . . ."

"And you took it," Jayne said simply. In a quick, cat like move, he reached across the table and snatched the bottle from Mal's hand. He poured himself another glass, and slugged it away, refilling the glass once more.

"Jayne, she just may be right, you know," Mal offered. "We need to stop this. She really is better able than any other person I know."

"She's a reader," Jayne looked at Mal coldly. "Even if he never lays a hand to her, Mal, being around him could destroy her mind. Ever think o' that?" The look on Mal's face was answer enough to that.

"Thought so," Jayne nodded. Suddenly he stood.

"I maybe can't stop you from sittin' here, you bein' _Sheriff_ an' all, but I don't gotta share a table with ya. Know what's good for ya, you won't follow me no more."

"Where ya goin'?" Mal asked, not bothering to rise.

"No idea," Jayne replied honestly. "I'll be back in time for lift off. Need a pilot, since I ain't got one no more. Nor a wife, either, looks like," he added bitterly.

"Now Jayne, that ain't called for!" Mal objected.

"Ain't none of it called for," Jayne nodded. "I ain't gonna be a third wheel between you two. Whoever's flyin' for me, have'em there two hours 'fore dusk, tomorrow. We'll leave at sunset." With that Jayne headed for the door.

Mal sighed, waiting until Jayne had left to get to his feet. He was too tired to keep chasing the big man. Maybe he could talk better sense into him tomorrow.


	24. Chapter 24

Sins of the Past – Chapter Twenty Four

Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.

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The next day was stressful on everyone. Jayne had not returned to the ship that night. Goldie was going to start looking for him, but Mal told him about their encounter, and advised against it. Mal did warn his night shift that Jayne was on the prowl, and if they received a call, to notify him at once. Not to try and stop the big man on their own.

But there had been no call. Jayne had not turned up anywhere. River, crestfallen but determined, had packed a few things from the ship and went into town. She had rented a room there, and Mal had suggested a place where she could find work, as part of her cover. Much as Mal wanted to find Jayne, he needed to be in town, to organize the effort to protect River while she tried to bait the Slasher into making an attempt to take her.

Kaylee had begged and pleaded with River not to go. Zoe had also spoke to her, advising against what she was doing.

"Think what this may cost you little one," Zoe had warned her friend. "Jayne's upset about this. You've hurt him. Maybe you shouldn't do it."

"No," River shook her head. "This is the way it must be. Something has to be done, and I'm the logical choice."

"Don't think he see's it that way," Zoe replied. "And I don't neither. You're makin' a mistake. This ain't your fight."

Simon was almost apoplectic.

"Damn it, River!" he had exclaimed. "After all we've been through? Why would you risk our happiness? I don't understand!"

"I know," River smiled at him, touching his cheek softly. "But it must be done."

"It doesn't have to be done by _you_!"

"There is no one else."

Inara and Mal had a terrible argument the night before, as she packed clothes for her trip to Astra as pilot of _Companion._ She didn't mind making the trip, but she was incensed at the reason.

"Jayne was right," she had told him flatly. "You should have threatened to arrest her. Anything to prevent this."

Mal shrugged helplessly. He hadn't thought of it. And wasn't sure he could have taken her into custody, anyway. When he had pointed that out, Inara had shot back at him.

"If nothing else, you could have used the safe word." Mal looked crest fallen at that, once again having not thought of it.

He pondered doing that very thing, but he made the mistake of pondering it around River. She had looked at him with eyes narrowed.

"I would be very unhappy, if you were to use the Alliance tricks against me," she warned.

"That ain't fair, 'Tross," Mal had shook his head. "You're puttin' me in a terrible fix." River's look had softened at that.

"I'm sorry for that," she had told him, sincerely. "But this is the way it must be. As I have told you, I think that unless we catch him, or kill him, he will stay here for a very long time. Many more will die at his hands."

"I don't want you to be one of the one's that do!" Mal retorted.

"I will not be."

"You can't know that!"

"That is true," River shrugged. "Still, I am the logical choice. . . ."

"Stop talkin' to me about logic!" Mal suddenly shouted. River blinked at that.

"You're makin' my life hell!" Mal went on. "Inara is furious at me, Jayne is like to kill me, Kaylee won't even look at me. Kaylee! They don't blame _you_, they blame _me! _Like it was all _my_ idea." River sighed.

"It will be all right, once we are finished."

"Just you remember, you're risking more lives than just yours!" Mal told her, then stomped away. Or tried to. It was hard to stomp on a bad leg. River watched him go, sorry for his troubles, but determined to continue.

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Jayne arrived at the _Companion_ three hours ahead of lift off. He went aboard without speaking to anyone, going straight to his bunk, and then to the shower. River had already gone. Jayne noted the absence of her things, but didn't care. He was past that.

Inara was on the bridge when he walked up, freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes. Inara looked up at him, smiling slightly.

"Hello, Jayne."

"'Nara," he nodded. "Guess you're our pilot this run?"

"If that's all right," Inara nodded. Jayne snorted.

"Don't reckon I got any say in it, no how," he told her. "And I'd soon have you as anyone else I know. You've always been a good pilot. Set us down safe after _Serenity_ was attacked, didn't ya?"

"Jayne, I'm sorry about. . . ."

"Ain't nothin' to be sorry 'bout," Jayne held up his hand. "Ain't nothin' I wanna discuss, at any rate. Less'n you tell me you had a hand in this."

"No, I didn't," Inara shook her head. "I tried to talk to River, ask her not to do this, but I didn't get anywhere. Mal tried again today to get her. . . ."

"Don't wanna talk 'bout Mal, neither," Jayne told her abruptly. "Don't wanna talk to or about neither one of'em."

"Jayne, you can't just shut her out," Inara said, trying to be the voice of reason.

"Didn't. She shut me out. And that's just fine, that's how she wants it. Promised Simon I'd never make'er stay she didn't wanna. Meant it. She wants somethin' else, ain't for me to stop'er. We ready to fly?" Inara blinked as much at the abrupt change of subject as the harsh words. She nodded.

"Yes, the ship is ready to fly."

"I'll supervise the loadin'. Saw'em headed this way with it on my way in." With that, Jayne walked off the bridge. Inara watched him go, aware of how hard he was working to maintain his calm. She shook her head at River's folly. While she might well bring the killer to heel, Inara had a feeling the cost would be high. Very high.

She hoped that River was able to pay the price.

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River settled into her small room in Bickford, still upset over the way she and Jayne had parted. She was convinced that what she was doing was the right thing. She hadn't anticipated his reception to her idea. It hadn't been fair to him, she knew. And she was sorry for that.

But this had to be done. Sighing, she noted the time. She had to get ready for work. Mal had found her a job in a small variety store, right on the square. She would be a clerk. It was job that would allow her to be seen everyday.

With her glasses, slight modification of her jawline using stage props, and an affected accent, no one should recognize her.

The hunt began.

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Goldie saw Jayne standing just off the ramp of _Companion_ and sauntered over.

"How's it goin'," he asked casually.

"Fine," Jayne replied, calmly. "You?"

"Gettin' by," Goldie nodded. "When ya leavin' out?"

"Prob'ly soon's I get this squared away," Jayne told him, nodding at the cargo being loaded.

"You over your mad, yet?" Jayne looked at him.

"I ain't rightly mad," Jayne told him. "Just. . .disappointed. That's all." Goldie nodded.

"I can understand that."

"Is what it is," Jayne shrugged. "She made her call. Her decision. I found out same time you did," he snorted.

"Yeah, that ain't right," Goldie shook his head.

"You're lucky," Jayne told him. "Zoe ain't like that."

"I know," Goldie nodded.

"Hold on to it, and to her," Jayne told him. "Don't risk it for nothin'."

"I don't aim to," Goldie started getting defensive. "Why?"

"Just talkin'," Jayne shrugged. "You two got it good. Hate to think after I'm gone it'll get screwed up."

"Gone?" Goldie looked at him, shocked. "Where you goin'?"

"Ain't rightly decided, yet," Jayne shrugged. "Still workin' on it. Can't stay here, though."

"Why'n hell not?" Goldie demanded. "You got a good thing here, Shade."

"Had," Jayne replied calmly. "I _had_ a good thing. Got it yanked out from under me last night."

"Oh, now, don't get all hasty on me," Goldie objected. "I mean, yeah, she hadn't oughta done ya that way, but still. She loves you!"

"She does," Jayne nodded. "Just not enough. She proved that last night. When it's me, or Mal, she'll chose Mal every time. I can't live like that, brother. I _won't_. Not for her, nor anyone else."

"Now kid, you might need ta think this through a little more."

Goldie was alarmed at how calm his younger friend was.

"What's to think through?" Jayne shrugged. "She don't want me doin' nothin' like this, yet she runs off first time Mal is on the ropes, puttin' _her_ life on the line. She makes the rules up as she goes along, Goldie. I can't live like that. It don't work for me."

"Well, women are like that, kid," Goldie reasoned. "I mean, that's what makes'em women. They get all hormone-y and stuff, and run about makin' bad decisions. Gotta just look past that." Jayne turned to Goldie, giving him his full attention.

"How do I look past last night, Goldie?" he asked bluntly. "How do I look past that?" Goldie didn't have an answer for that.

"Anyways, it's time we went," Jayne shrugged, indicating the finished loading. "I'll see ya in a few days, happen we get back 'fore you leave."

"Kid, don't leave 'fore you see me again, okay?" Goldie asked. "I mean, at least say good-bye to ever'body." Jayne looked at him for a long time, then nodded. Finally.

"Fair enough. See ya later." With that, Jayne walked up the ramp. Goldie stood there looking after him until the ramp began to close up. Warning lights came on around the pad, and Goldie headed back for _Serenity._

"Damn that fool girl," he muttered.

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"It'll grow back," Wart said, as Blade looked at herself in the

mirror, scowling at her partially shaved head.

"You know how long it takes for a woman's hair to grow out?" she demanded. "I mean, I like to think I ain't all that vain about my appearance, but. . . .damn!" The entire right side of her head, from her forehead to behind her ear, was shaven clean. The bandages, which covered her stitches, covered a good deal of the area, but not all.

"Damn that Simon!" she declared, tossing the little mirror onto her tray table. "He didn't have to shave that much off."

"He said he did," Wart shrugged. "And it'll grow back."

"Look at me, though," she grumped.

"I am lookin' at you," Wart told her quietly. "I don't care if you're bald. You're alive, and gonna stay that way. If the price for that includes you wearing a wig from now on, I'll take it." She looked at him, and smiled suddenly. Softly.

"Come'er ya big gruff."

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"This is my operation, Sheriff," Bailey told Mal flatly. "Your input and assistance is welcome, so long as you remember who is in charge."

"That's my daughter," Mal said evenly. "So long as you remember that if anything happens to her, like happened to Reeves, that I'll kill you, then you're fine."

"Are you threatening me?" Bailey asked, incredulous.

"Sure am," Mal nodded. "More like a promise, though. I _promise you_, you let anything happen to her, and you won't see the next sunrise. _Dong ma?_"

Bailey seemed about to say something else, but thought better of it. Instead, he turned back to his job.

Mal was uneasy. Well, that was putting it mildly. He was scared to death, that's what he was. River was putting herself directly in harm's way to help him. He felt guilty about that. He felt worse that Jayne had found out about it at the same time everyone else did. River hadn't done him right on that. Jayne had deserved fair warning. And some input. He'd gotten neither.

He thought back to Jayne's words the night before. Jayne was cold, and distant. He felt betrayed by River, likely the one person he thought he could trust without question. Mal didn't know what the man might do.

He had asked Inara to go along with Jayne to Astra, taking River's place. Inara had gone, more, he figured, to be away from him for not finding a way to stop River than because she wanted to. But maybe she could talk sense into Jayne. If anyone could, it was Inara. Jayne had a soft spot for Inara, after all she'd done for him.

Maybe she could use that to get Jayne to change how he felt right about now.

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Once the ship was in the black, Jayne had descended into a funk. Brooding was too weak a word for Jayne's attitude. He was withdrawn, silent. Not a good thing, Inara knew. She had left him alone for now. Better, she thought, to let Jayne work through things in peace for a time.

Jayne was sitting in the galley when Chelsa eased up to him. While she loved Jayne as her Daddy, she was still sometimes fearful of him. She knew it wasn't necessary, but Jayne was a scary man.

"Daddy?" Jayne looked up. His frown lessened at the sight of her, and he smiled the slightest bit.

"What is it, Princess?" he asked. "Something wrong?

"No," Chelsa replied. "I. . .I'm just worried about Momma." Jayne's face softened more at that. He'd been selfish, wallowing in his own worries. He reached out and pulled the girl into a hug.

"I know, Princess," he told her softly. "I am too."

"Why'd she do this?" Chelsa asked, tears in her eyes.

"She thought she needed to, I guess," Jayne shrugged. "She didn't tell me anymore than she did all o' you."

"Why not?" the girl demanded. "You deserved to know!" Jayne smiled, sitting back onto the couch. Chelsa curled up in his arms.

"Well, that's what I thought, too," he admitted. "But, she's got her own way o' doin' things, and sometimes she don't see fit to tell me what she's doin'."

"That's not right," Chelsa almost sobbed.

"No, Princess, it ain't," Jayne agreed. "Happens you and Liam was to wind up together, permanent like, you don't never do him that way, okay?"

"I won't," she promised, her voice vehement. "I couldn't!"

"I know, baby," he hugged her tighter. "I know. You're a dang good girl, you know that?"

"No, not always," she sighed. "I got Liam shot."

"Well, okay, you did do that," Jayne agreed. "But he's okay, now, and that's what counts. Don't mean you should do it again, though," he warned.

"I won't never do anything like that again," she promised. Jayne could feel her sincerity. She had spent many a night crying herself to sleep over that, he knew.

"Good. He's a good man, and deserves better."

"So do you, Daddy," Chelsa sniffed. "So do you."

Jayne didn't have a reply to that. Instead her held his daughter tighter, rocking back and forth slightly. His plans were complicated, now. He had forgotten, in his anger, that he now had responsibilities. To the girl, if no one else.

He'd have to figure on that some more.

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Goldie hadn't said anything to Zoe about Jayne's maybe leaving. First, he didn't know what to say. Second, he figured it was the kid's business, plain and simple. He knew this bunch had an odd way of looking at what was 'their' business, but he figured, a man's business was his own.

"What ya thinkin' about?" Zoe asked, sitting down beside him. He had placed a couple of chairs just inside the cargo door. It was raining slightly, and he was simply watching.

"Just thinkin' 'bout what River done," he shrugged, accepting her kiss as she settled into the chair he'd set out for her. "'Bout how ever'one's all tore up over it."

"I know," Zoe sighed, plopping into the seat with a tired sigh. "I tried talking to her this morning, but it's like talking to a wall. She smiles, nods, says she understands, but then goes right on and does it anyway."

"She did Sh. . .Jayne, wrong, Zoe," Goldie said quietly.

"Very much so," Zoe agreed. He looked at her.

"Did you expect me to argue? Or disagree?" she asked.

"No," Goldie told her. "I was just thinkin' on somethin' the kid said, 'fore they lifted out. He's right put out."

"I'd say that's puttin' it mildly," Zoe snorted. "I'm amazed he didn't just tackle her, and haul her off to one of Mal's jail cells."

"Said he promised he'd never make her stay with him," Goldie shrugged. "He also maybe is thinkin' that she and him are through," he added, in spite of his good intentions.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Zoe sighed again. Goldie looked at her, puzzled.

"Jayne ain't like to look kindly on this," Zoe shrugged. "And she had asked Jayne not to help Mal anymore. Now she runs off doin' this. I'm thinkin' he may not like that."

"He don't," Goldie snorted. "And she was flat wrong not to o' told him, 'fore she told the rest of us. That wasn't right."

"No, it wasn't," Zoe shook her head. "I ain't sure that River has the same idea about marriage that Jayne does." Goldie took Zoe's hand in his.

"He also told me I was very lucky. That you wouldn't do to me what River had done to him. I agreed with him." Zoe squeezed his hand, smiling.

"No, I wouldn't," she promised. "Not ever."

The two sat in companionable silence after that, watching the rain fall. It was a quiet, simple act, yet each enjoyed it immensely.

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River was constantly alert as she waited on customers. She always smiled, thanked them for their business, and was as helpful as she could be, but at that same time was 'scanning' for any sign that something was out of place.

She was tired, now, as the store neared closing time. She now knew far more about the good people of Bickford than she really wanted to know. She sighed. This was what it would take, and she'd just have to do it.

Several off duty deputies had entered in plain clothes, made purchases, and left. She had smiled at them like everyone else, and they, in turn, flirted with her slightly. It was all part of the plan that Mal had put together, based in large part on his 'talk' with Reeves. He wanted nothing left to chance.

River sighed again, looking at the clock. Working by the hour was a lot harder than working the black. Thinking of the black made her think yet again of Jayne.

She hoped he would be over his anger by the time he returned. She ached, being away from him. Surely, she thought, he would see the need. If they were successful, then it was all worth it, right? She had wondered more than once if she had pushed him too far. Each time she laid that aside. She was sure he would forgive her.

He always had.

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_He glanced at her again. He couldn't believe his luck. There she was, the perfect canvas. A near twin to his original work. So close that it was breathtaking. She smiled as she looked at him. He returned it, then walked on, making his choices. Again he remembered his first love. His first work. Sloppy, it had been. Rushed, filled with anger, rage and embarrassment. He had hurried it._

_But he was past all that now. He had grown during all those years. He had, in fact, come full circle. Back to the place where things had all started. For it was here that _she_ had spurned him. But, not content to simply tell him no, she had shamed him, publicly. The anger he felt, even now, was cooled only by the memory of what he had done to her, later. She had pleaded, begged, apologized, offered him anything he wanted. He smiled at that._

_He had what he wanted. He had shown her the error of her ways, dismissing him as a joke. He had _loved_ her. It had taken weeks for him to work up the nerve to just talk to her. And she had toyed with him until he had asked her out. _

_Then she had shamed him in front of the entire school. By the next day the entire town knew of it, and his ears burned with shame at that thought._

_But who had won in the end, eh? He had. And now, the town was paying for their humor at his suffering. True, they didn't know it was him. He was gone, after all. Hadn't been seen nor heard from in a very long time. Two decades or more. He had been around the 'verse in that time, perfecting his skills, preparing for his ultimate homecoming. And so far, it had been grand._

_And now, oh, now, there she was. A near mirror image of the one who had started it all. He wanted her. He would have her. But it would be perfect. So perfect. No messy, hurried work, this time. No. It would be perfection incarnate. His masterpiece. _

_Perhaps, once this work was finished, his need would be gone. He could finally lay what had happened to rest, leave it behind him forever._

_But he would have her, before that happened. Oh, yes, she would be his grandest work._

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River watched the strange man as he shopped. She had twice caught him looking at her, but his surface thoughts indicated she simply reminded him of someone else, long ago. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, shyly.

When he came to check out, River was in the back, and didn't see him leave. If she had been, she would have sensed the spike in his mind, the shiver of anticipation, as he left the store.

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Mal sighed as River made it to her room without incident. He had chosen this house for a good reason. It had only two doors, and River's room was on the front, upstairs. No one could come or go without being seen. He had men watching both doors, and two more waiting to respond at a moment's notice should something happen.

The Marshal's were more lax, apparently, having set up their observation in another apartment nearly a block away. They also had men watching the door's, but after what had happened to Reeves, Mal wasn't taking any chances.

"Why don't you go on home," Toby said easily. "We've got it. Likely nothing will happen first day or so."

"Don't assume that!" Mal snapped.

"Mal, we won't make the same mistake they did. I won't promise you nothing will happen, but he'll actually have to work for it, this time." Mal eased up a bit, and nodded.

"Call me if anything, and I mean _anything_ happens," he ordered.

"Be the first," Toby promised. Reluctantly Mal left, heading home. He was tired, he had to admit. And in pain. When he arrived, he ignored the supper left for him, and instead climbed the stairs to his bed.

Despite all his worries, he was asleep in seconds.


	25. Chapter 25

Sins of the Past – Chapter Twenty Five

Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.

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"Morning, Jayne," Inara smiled as he walked into the galley. Inara and Chelsa were fixing breakfast.

"Mornin'," he nodded. Inara fought a frown. Jayne was still in a mood.

"Mornin' Daddy," Chelsa beamed, kissing him on the cheek.

"Mornin' Princess," Jayne smiled, hugging her in return. Inara had to fight not to stare. The change in Jayne was nearly instantaneous. She busied herself with cooking to cover her surprise.

"What we havin'?" Jayne asked. "Smells good."

"Ham, biscuits, and gravy. And scrambled eggs." Chelsa rattled off the menu.

"Sounds good," Jayne nodded. "Boy up?"

"In the cargo bay," Inara told him. "Holly will be on his way up from the engine room shortly. We'll be ready to eat in just a few minutes."

"Okay," Jayne nodded. He left, walking to the bridge. He never touched anything here, not knowing how to fly. He liked to sit here, though, and look out at the stars. Long as no one else knew it.

"Jayne?" He turned, seeing Inara looking at him.

"Already?" Jayne asked. How long had he sat here?

"No, not quite yet," Inara shook her head. She crossed to sit in the pilot's chair. "Chelsa is finishing up."

"Girl's turned into a good cook," Jayne smiled.

"Yes, she has," Inara smiled. "She's making herself a better prospect for Liam, I think." She laughed.

"Good cookin'll do that," he replied, looking back out at the black.

"Jayne, I'd like to talk to you." He looked at her.

"Go ahead," he told her.

"About River," Inara tensed, but Jayne just shrugged.

"Okay." Inara wasn't expecting that, and wondered if his reaction was good, or bad.

"I know you're upset about this," she began. When he didn't react, she frowned.

"Everyone else is, too, you know," she tried.

"She ain't married to ever'body else," Jayne said evenly. "But, reckon she ain't gonna be married to me much longer."

"What?" Inara was shocked at the calm response.

"I don't aim to play second fiddle to no one, Inara, and that includes Mal," Jayne told her flatly. "She runs off to help him, don't even give me a head's up, don't allow me no input, nothin'. This is _after_ she asked me _not_ to get involved no more, mind ya. But, with Mal's problems addin' up, she's just _got_ to help _Baba_." He made the familial term sound like a disease.

"Jayne, he tried to talk her out of it," Inara said.

"I'm sure he did," Jayne sighed. "But at the end o' the day, he took what she offered. Ain't sayin' it's his fault," he held up a hand to Inara. "It's River's fault, Inara. Whatever happens, if anything happens, it's all on her. I won't hold Mal responsible. But he should have found a way to keep her out o' this. I told him he should have arrested her, if he had to."

"I suggested he use the safe word," Inara admitted. Jayne looked at her.

"Hell, I never thought o' that," he growled.

"Mal hadn't either," Inara shrugged. "But she had. She vaguely threatened him, if he were to use it."

"Figures," Jayne snorted. "Well, like I already said, I don't really blame Mal. And, I promised Simon when we hooked up, she was free to stay or go as she pleased, and I'd never try to make her stay, she didn't wanna. And," he sighed, "she didn't wanna."

"Jayne, don't think that way," Inara admonished.

"Ain't no other way for me to think, 'Nara," Jayne shrugged. "I ain't the one what left. She is." He rose at that.

"Girl oughta be done with breakfast by now. I'm hungry."

And that, Inara figured, was that. She decided there was no point in bringing the subject up again. At least not on this leg of the trip.

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The next three days drug by. River had never worked like this, hour after hour of the same thing, over and over. It was monotonous. Tedious. Boring. To tears.

But she kept smiling. Her job might have been just a cover, but if she didn't work, then he might see through her. It was important that the killer take the bait. If he didn't, then someone else would die.

Mal was worried sick. Simon had given him medicine for stomach acid, as Mal had developed permanent heart burn. Simon hadn't been angry with him, but had been distant. Cool, professional. Kaylee had flat ignored him.

_It's not my fault!_ he wanted to scream, but knew it wouldn't help. So, he didn't.

He sighed, looking at the little observation post. Three men were sitting in the windows, behind a screen that was supposed to make them all but impossible to detect. All but, Mal winced. The man they were after was smart. There was no telling whether he could see them or not.

At least their system seemed to be working. River was never out of sight except when she was in her room. She was under constant surveillance when she was at work, or on her way to or from the job. The only time she wasn't under direct observation was in the house, and it was surrounded.

He still worried, constantly.

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_He went to the store again after three days. He had to be careful not to be there over much. This time he simply walked in, made a few minor purchases, and left again. It was difficult, since she was there, but he managed without a hitch._

_She had smiled at him again. A shy smile, but without guile. He twinged a bit when she smiled at him. She wasn't like _her_. He had never had any interaction with him victims like this. They were rarely nice, which simply made his actions easier for him. _

_This one was different. While she looked like _her, _she was nothing like her at all. Or, he told himself, so it seemed. He had fallen for that once before. But this one really did seem different._

_He pondered that as he walked along. It was different, and he didn't much like different. No, he didn't like different at all._

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Jayne had decided to stay overnight on Astra. He had spoken to Inara about it before making the decision, since he didn't want to extend the trip without her approval. He knew she didn't like being away from Mal so long.

But Inara had readily agreed. So, once the cargo was unloaded, they had decided that the four of them would go out for a while. Holly, happy with the lay over, slipped away as soon as Jayne had given him the nod that it was okay to do so. Jayne didn't know where he went, figuring it was none of his business. He was certain Holly had himself a girl on Astra. But he was always back on time, and always did his job well. Jayne saw no problem.

He, Inara, Chelsa and Liam went to eat, then walked around the shopping district, mostly looking at window displays. After a few hours, though, everyone was ready to head back. Jayne made sure the boat was secure as everyone else turned in. On the ground they rarely kept a true watch anymore. Astra's docks were fairly well patrolled.

Soon, everyone was settled in for the evening. Jayne didn't expect to be able to sleep, and he wasn't surprised by it. He found himself on the bridge, looking out at the night. He thought about the long road that had led him to be where he was this minute.

He relived the events that had led him to be aboard _Serenity_, the things that had transpired while he was aboard, his near refusal to go along to Miranda. The letter from Book that had changed him so much. Had changed his life so much. All that time, and Book had known who he was all along. That man had been a caution.

He missed Book more than ever at this moment in time. Book would have known what to do. What for Jayne to do. How to handle the sudden change his view of the world around him had under gone.

He was still angry, he admitted to himself. After all of River's little 'observations' about married life, she had been the one to abandon them all. Jayne wanted to be mad at Mal, but knew that the fault didn't really lie with him. He didn't think Mal had worked over much on stopping her, though. Oh, he was sure Mal went through the motions. He would never willingly allow harm to come to River. Loved her like a daughter, in fact.

But, as Jayne had pointed out, there was no secret how much pressure Mal was under. Nor was it a secret, at least not among those who knew him, that Mal's health was suffering in part because of all that pressure.

The entire community was practically trembling in fear over the killer. Jayne could understand that. He had seen it before. But that didn't mean that River had to run off, trying to 'save' everyone. He had told her, time and again, how smart Ghoul had been. How vicious, how dangerous. You couldn't play with a man like that. Hadn't they learned anything from what happened to Reeves? Hadn't River?

But then, River was smarter than Reeves, wasn't she. And River had never been shy about acknowledging how smart she was, or how deadly she could be. He knew how River's mind worked. She was a genius, and a trained assassin, ergo, she was more than able to handle the Ghoul. Regardless of how smart he might be, or how well trained he was.

He sighed, leaning back into his seat and trying to relax. This wasn't helping him. He realized that during the last few minutes of thinking, his teeth were grinding against each other, and his muscles were as tense as if he were about to go into battle. More tense, in fact, since he was usually relaxed before a battle.

_Why couldn't she listen, just this once_? he thought to himself in despair. _Just once, admit that someone might know something she didn't, and follow someone else's advise. Why?_

Hours later when he finally managed to drift off to sleep, he had no answers. Just more questions, and more doubt.

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_Companion_ left the next day. Inara was at the controls, which left Chelsa chomping at the bit. Now that she could do it, she wanted the controls every time the ship left the ground. Jayne had admonished her, however, not to let her attitude show, or she'd regret it. Chelsa wisely took that warning.

Once they were in the black, Inara set the auto-pilot, and went aft to the galley, leaving Chelsa in charge on the bridge. She hid a smile at Chelsa's attempts to hide her impatience. The girl wanted to fly. Well, so did Inara, and she had seniority.

Jayne was seated at the galley table, cleaning Vera. He didn't need the great rifle much anymore, but he went through the ritual anyway. Long practice insisted on it.

"We're on our way home, Jayne," Inara smiled. She fixed herself a cup of tea, and sat down.

"Good deal," Jayne nodded, concentrating on his rifle.

"Are you still angry?" Inara asked bluntly. Jayne did look up then.

"A bit, I reckon," he said simply. "Hard not to be."

"You should try and get it out of your system," Inara advised him.

"I have tried," he shrugged. "Ain't workin'. I'm tired o' bein' tired, if ya know what I mean. Even if this works, and I ain't so sure it will, she'll just do it again, she takes a notion. I can't live that way, Inara."

"You know, you did something like this, when we first arrived on Argo. With Zhang?" Inara kept her voice even.

"Ain't the same," Jayne shook his head. "Man was a threat to us all. Killed my friend, hurt River, and would have killed all of you, given the chance. That was somethin' that had to be done for _our_ safety. Our well bein'. This ain't like that."

"She does match the victim profile," Inara reminded him. "And so does Chelsa, to a lesser extent. And Becca Phillips."

"And all of'em were well protected," Jayne replied. "I'm sorry 'bout them others, I am. Could I do anything about it, I would in a second. But sorry for them don't translate to puttin' my people, my _family_, at risk. Period."

"River see's this as something that must be done, Jayne," Inara shrugged.

"No, River see's this as somethin' only _she_ can do," Jayne corrected. "She's over confident, and filled with pride. She's so certain that she's the only one who can stop him that she's willin' ta bet her life on it. But, thing is, she's got responsibilities _here_. To me, the girl, to Simon. To all of you. But she chucked all of that aside, with little or no thought about me, or Chelsa. To run off and help _Baba_, put herself in the worst danger she can imagine. And she ain't got a clue what kinda man she's up against. Not a clue."

"She believes she does," Inara pointed out. "Perhaps you should have more faith in her, Jayne. Faith in her and her abilities."

"Inara, I got faith in her," Jayne shook his head. "She ain't got faith in _me_. She ignored my warnin's. Like she knew more'n I did about this, cause she's some kinda super-genius. I can't _possibly_ know somethin' she don't, cause I ain't smart like she is. But I do know a little somethin' 'bout this. And she just blew all that off. This was one challenge she should'a passed on."

Inara considered that as she sat there looking at him. It was true, River had always been willing to bet her smart's against anyone else's. And she had, since Miranda, been supremely confident in her abilities. Not without merit, Inara thought.

"Jayne, what if she's right?" she asked finally. "What if she's the only one who can stop him? And does it?"

"Good for her," Jayne nodded. "'Spect Mal oughta hire her as a deputy, that was to happen. That way she can save ever'body, and get paid for it. At least then, when the next time rolls around, it'll be her job, and not just a whim that hits her."

"I don't think it's fair to consider this a whim, Jayne," Inara shot back. "She put a great deal of thought into this."

"'m sure she did," Jayne nodded. "Just not no thought about how it would affect me, or the girl. Just how it would affect Mal. Like it or not, Inara, accept it or not, she'll always put what Mal needs above me. And the girl. That ain't right, nor fair. You don't do Mal that way, do ya?" he challenged. "Zoe don't do it to Goldie, neither. And, no matter what I've ever had to do, I ain't _never_ put _nothin'_ above her, Inara. Not once since we been together. Everything I done since we got together, has been for, about, or around _her_." He paused, taking a calming breath.

"That's all I know how to do," he finished more calmly. "And she don't. She. Don't."

With that, Jayne turned his attention back to his rifle, signifying that the conversation was over. Inara sighed in frustration, trying to find a way to refute what Jayne had told her. But his argument was well presented. While it represented only his view, she had to admit that it was well done.

Try as she might, she couldn't find a hole in it.

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River walked home, her feet hurting, her back hurting, her legs hurting. How anyone managed to do this kind of work day after day, week after week, was beyond her. After only five days, she was ready to scream. At least she didn't have to work tomorrow. It was her day off. She had checked the weather, and it was supposed to be nice. She planned to pack a lunch and sit in the park, drawing. She would also take a book to read.

Mal and the Marshal's would have the park covered from on end to the other, so she would relax, unwind, and rest her poor tired feet. And legs. And back.

She trudged along, looking just like any other hourly wage earner who was at the end of a five day work week. Trying not to think about Jayne, and what state of mind he was in. She had not heard from him since she'd begun. It was better for her 'cover' if she didn't, of course, but she had thought, _hoped_, he would wave her. Tell her he understood. That everything was okay.

No such wave had been forth coming, however. Once more, she wondered if this time she had pushed to hard. To far. She had been so certain of how he would react. Yet, she was wrong.

Did that mean that she was wrong about this? It was unusual for her to doubt herself. Yet, there was a tingling bit of doubt at the back of her mind, right now. She didn't know if it was because of Jayne's reaction, or because she was pursuing the wrong track here.

Either way, it was positively annoying.

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_He watched her as she went home. Of course he knew where she lived. He wondered if she would go out with her friends tomorrow. She had seen her with them before, the older couple. Others. Perhaps she would meet them again._

_Or, perhaps she had plans of her own. He would watch. Wait. See for himself what she did. He had not gone back to the store again. The minor twinge of conscience he had felt earlier annoyed him. Threatened to interfere with his work. He couldn't allow that. Wouldn't allow it. He was more disciplined than that. _

_So he would watch her, and plan his move. Everything was in readiness, once she was taken. All he had to do was find the right time, right place. And he would._

_He always did._

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The next day River packed a lunch, took her sketch pad, and a book, and walked to the town park. Once there, she choice a place out in the open, spread her blanket on the ground, and sat, looking about her. Children were already playing on the swings and other equipment, parents, mothers at least, watching carefully. She sighed at that, wondering if she would ever have the opportunity to watch carefully as her own little Jayne or little River played on those swings. If the long silence from her husband was any indication, it was unlikely.

She wondered, idly, why she didn't just stop. Go back, admit she was wrong, and ask him to forgive and forget. Wondered more accurately, perhaps, why she _couldn't_. Was it because she would be admitting she was wrong? That she had been wrong in her approach to this? In hindsight, she had been so sure that Jayne would be angry, blowing and bellowing about like a great bull, or bear, but knowing all the while that he would give in.

Only he hadn't. Instead, he had reacted just the opposite. As soon as she had told him she didn't need his 'consent or permission', that she had 'already decided', that had been it. Instead of her Jayne, whom she loved more than mere words could express, she had been left facing the warrior. Shade. Cold, pitiless, unforgiving.

Even now, a week later, she felt a shiver at the memory of the cold voice, flat, emotionless eyes, and the steely voice that she had heard more than once, but never, not even once, directed at her.

Until now. She sighed, on the verge of tears as she realized she had, perhaps, made a terrible mistake. One that could cost her every scrap of happiness she had managed to find since her life had been torn to shreds by Blue Sun.

"Awfully pretty day for tears and a frown, ain't it?" a stranger's voice broke into her thoughts. She whirled around, facing a small, wiry man, smiling at her in a friendly manner. She had seen him before. . . .

"Sorry, I'm Bret. Bret Hardin. I seen you this week a few times in the variety when I stopped by for stuff. New there ain't you? Least I don't recall seein' ya 'fore this week."

"Hello, Mister Hardin," River smiled. "Yes, I am new. I remember you now. I started just a week ago. My first day off," she waved around her.

"Well, looks like a fine way to spend it," Hardin nodded. "I shouldn't have butted in, mind," he apologized. "Just, I saw. . .well, never mind all that. Anyway, just thought to say hi. Have a good day!" With that he started to walk away. River paused, thinking. She had to play the part.

"Don't run off on my account!" she called happily. "There's room for more. Might even find an extra sandwich, if you haven't eaten already." Hardin looked at her for a moment, clearly thinking.

"Well, was on my way to Rose's just now to eat," he admitted. "Still, I hate to be a party crasher. I appreciate the offer though, miss. . . ."

"Peggy," River used the name they'd made for her. "Peggy Sams. And you aren't crashing if I invite you."

"Well, put that way, I guess I ain't," the man nodded. "Well, okay, then, Miss Sams, I reckon I'll take you up on that." He walked over and sat down on the farthest corner of the blanket from River.

"Please, just Peggy," River smiled. "Here you are," she handed over a sandwich, and a bottle of soda.

"Just Bret then, I reckon," he smiled, taking the offered food and drink. He tasted the sandwich, and his eyes lit up.

"Wow, that's good!"

"Thank you," River blushed slightly. "It's just a sandwich."

"Hey, it's a _good_ sandwich. Big difference."

"Well, yes, I suppose there is!" River giggled lightly, playing her part out. "You come to the park often?"

"When it's nice out, like today," he nodded, gesturing around him at the activity. "Makes me feel less alone, sometimes," he added quietly.

"I know what you mean," River agreed, somberly. "I'm still alone, I guess, but I'm surrounded by people, so technically I'm not."

"Right," Hardin chuckled. "Sounds like we read the same books."

"Oh I love to read!" River exclaimed. "I was going to read here today, later on. I was just sitting here for a while gathering wool, as my _Baba_ would say."

"Who might that be?" Hardin looked apprehensive. "I don't want no angry farmer comin' for me with a shotgun over a ham sandwich, no matter how good it is!" River laughed.

"No worries there," she assured him. "My family lives in Mount Talmidge. I came down here to attend the new finishing school that's starting soon. I'm going off planet soon, so I want to be polished up before leaving. Want to be able to fit in when I get to the Core, you know."

"Well, reckon that makes sense," Bret nodded. "Going to school off world?"

"Yes, on Osiris," River replied, with just a touch of haughty in her voice. Not much, but a little. "I'm going there to study ballet." She had deliberately picked something that would enable her to make a better cover. The best lies were hidden in the truth.

"Sounds like a big deal, especially for a small moon girl, long way from home."

"Well, it may be a small moon, but we're not uncivilized," River sniffed. "And no matter where you are, a little culture can't hurt."

"Too true, that," Hardin agreed, toasting her with his soda bottle before downing a drink. "Well, I'm sure you'll do well. I take it that moody look before was over leaving home?"

"My father doesn't want me to go," River pouted slightly. "He and my mother argued over it most of last year. I think these killings were what made him decide to let me make the trip. Figures I'm safer there than here."

"Could be he has a point," Bret shrugged.

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"What in the blazes of hell is she doin'?" Mal asked no one in particular.

"She's playing her part, Mal," Toby replied. "She's supposed to be out and about, making herself available. This is on the script."

"Sittin' and talkin' with a total stranger ain't on the script!"

"It is when you're lookin' for a total stranger," Toby sighed. "Mal, we got five men watching her every move. She's as safe as we can make her. And she ain't really weak and helpless herself, now, is she?"

"That don't mean. . . ." Mal caught himself. No one wanted to hear it. And it distracted them from their duties.

"Mal, we get it," Toby told him. "Why don't you take a walk. Stretch that leg, get some air. Ain't nothin' gonna happen, and if it does. . . ."

Toby's last words were cut off by the sound of an explosion. One so powerful that it shook the ground around them.

"What in the hell was that!"

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"What. . ." Bret jumped up, turning to face the sound of the explosion. River was up beside him in an instant.

"What in the world was that?" she asked, wide eyed. She was instantly on guard, remembering the man digging the hole right in front of the jail in which to hide Reeves.

"I. . .I don't know!" Bret sounded a bit winded. His mind was full of fear, uncertainty, and the need to try and remain calm in front of a pretty girl. River had to hide a smile at that.

She was still hiding the smile when she felt the pin prick at the base of neck. In the seconds before she went under, she could see Bret Hardin, smiling at her, holding her up in his arms.

"Don't worry, Peggy," he said calmly. "I've got you now."


	26. Chapter 26

_Author's note: I'm truly sorry for the delay. I had a computer problem, and, of course, the backup was sans the latest work I had completed. I have recovered what I can, and will be trying to finish this story as soon as possible. I've had other issues going on as well, but I won't bore you with details, lol. Thanks for your patience, and your continued interest in my writing. _

_Bad_

FFFFFFFFFFFFF

Sins of the Past – Chapter Twenty Six

Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.

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Mal and Toby watched as the Fire Department continued to work at extinguishing the fire. A ground car parked along the roadway had exploded, showering the entire area with flame. Only the quick response of the fire department, and their expertise, had prevented the fire from spreading beyond slight damage to the surrounding area. The car, of course, was toast.

"I gotta feelin' this car had help blowin' up," Toby murmured quietly to Mal. Jarred, Mal whirled around.

"Where's River!"

The two sprinted back to the park, searching frantically for any sign of the young woman. Nothing. Mal took his radio from his belt.

"Anyone with a eye on the Subject?" he asked, desperation in his voice. No one replied. Mal switched frequencies, calling Bailey.

"You still got River under your eye?" he demanded. No answer.

"Hey, Bailey! I _know_ you can hear my you son-of-a. . . .I know you can hear me," Mal managed to catch himself. "Do you still have eyes on River or not?"

"Stand by," the answer finally came. It was not Bailey's voice.

"If I have to come over there. . . ." Mal started.

"This is Bailey," the Marshal cut in. "We've lost the subject. Repeat, we have lost sight of the subject. All units, begin. . . ."

The rest of the Marshal's orders were lost as Mal hurled the radio to the ground, where it shattered into dozens of bits and pieces.

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Toby yelled into his radio for Ryan Greggs as he ran after Mal. As soon as Mal had heard Bailey admit to losing sight of River, he had started hobbling toward the Marshal's command post. Slow to catch on, Toby hadn't started pursuing Mal until the Sheriff was well along the sidewalk. His ribs hurting like hell, Toby ran after him.

"On the way," he heard Ryan reply. Toby knew he couldn't physically restrain Mal, so Ryan's presence would be needed.

"_Bailey!"_ Mal yelled as he neared the Marshal's command post. "Bailey, I told you what would happen!" Mal's hand moved to his gun, sliding the large pistol from it's holster. Before he could lift it, however, Ryan Gregg's hand descended on Mal's in a crushing grip.

"_Get off me!_" Mal yelled. Ryan shook his head.

"No can do, Boss," Ryan told him, easily taking the gun from Mal's hand. "Won't help River none to kill the _hundan_, anyway."

"He's right, Mal!" Toby agreed, puffing for breath as he arrived. "We can't take the time to worry about these jerk-offs. We have to get looking for River, and right now!"

Mal stood, trembling with rage and fear, for a long time. Finally his head began to clear. Toby was right. Finding River had to take priority.

"You're right. Let's go."

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Simon was almost stoic as he took the news.

"I'm sorry, Simon," Mal began, but was cut off.

"I don't want to hear it, Mal," the young doctor told him softly. "Thank you for informing me. You can go, now." Taken aback by Simon's response, Mal simply stood there for a moment. Simon turned cold eyes on Mal.

"I said you can go now, Mal," he repeated slowly. "And you should." With that Simon retreated into the clinic. Mal shook his head, and left.

For his part, Simon stopped inside his office, taking a deep breath. His eyes closed, he thought about a clear blue sky, with innocent looking white clouds flowing overhead. Something he had learned as an intern, to help settle him before surgery. Finally, he opened his eyes, and sat down at his cortex transceiver. Slowly, methodically, he dialed the address for _Companion._ Jayne deserved to hear this from family.

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"What happened, Simon?" Jayne asked as soon as he saw Simon's face.

His brother-in-law's face was pale and stiff, as if he were struggling to keep his emotions in check.

"She's gone, Jayne," Simon said simply. "She's been taken." Jayne stiffened slightly, but merely nodded.

"I was afraid o' that," he said evenly. "You okay?" The was real concern in Jayne's voice. Simon shrugged helplessly.

"I may as well be. I can't do anything. I couldn't stop her from. . . ."

"Neither could I," Jayne cut him off. "This isn't your fault, Simon. Don't get dragged into thinking it is. _Dong ma?_"

"How can I not?" Simon asked, anguish in his voice coming clearly through the wave. "I should have done something."

"Such as?" Jayne asked. "We both did all we could do, Simon. She's got a mind of her own and once she sets it to somethin', that's it. You ought know that better'n I do."

"I do," Simon sighed. "I wish, just once, she had listened to me."

"So do I," Jayne's voice was heavy with loss and sadness.

"How far out are you?" Simon asked.

"Inara?" Jayne turned, looking to where Inara and Chelsa were working on a new ETA based on a full burn.

"Less than twenty-three hours, daddy," a puffy eyed Chelsa said without looking up. "We're working on it."

"Thanks, Princess," Jayne said softly, turning back to the screen.

"You hear?"

"Yes," Simon nodded. "I'll wave again if we hear anything."

"I'll see what I can do once I get there," Jayne promised. The screen went dark, and Jayne sat there for a moment, looking at the darkness.

"Jayne?" Inara asked, after several minutes. Jayne started at her voice, and turned to look at her.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, Jayne, but you've been sitting there for over an hour. Is there anything I can do?"

Jayne frowned. An hour?

"I didn't realize it had been that long, 'Nara. 'M sorry."

"Don't be," Inara told him at once. "I was concerned or I wouldn't have said anything."

"Thanks, but I'm alright, I reckon."Jayne rose to his feet, feeling the stiffness that had set in while he sat staring at the monitor. He had been here a while, apparently.

"Can I do anything?" Inara asked, almost anxiously.

"Not as I know of," Jayne shook his head. "Might keep an eye on the girl, you don't mind. I. . .I really ain't in the right kinda mind fer it at the moment."

"Of course, Jayne," Inara nodded. She took a hesitant step toward him, her hand out. Her mouth opened, but she simply couldn't find any words.

"I know," Jayne nodded. "And I appreciate the thought." He touched her shoulder lightly as he walked by, heading for his bunk. Inara watched him go, her heart rending for the pain he must be feeling. She was suddenly overwhelmed by a brief bout of fury at what River had done to him.

_I can't think like that. Not now,_ she scolded herself mentally. River was likely in the hands of a monster. Anger could come when, _if_, River was found and returned to them safely.

Until then, Inara had promised to take care of Chelsa. And she would.

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Mal was frantic. His men had sealed off every road out of town, and no car had departed without being thoroughly searched. There had been absolutely no sign of River. None.

The Marshal's Service shuttle was circling the town, tracking any vehicle near the outskirts, in case someone tried to get out cross country. So far nothing had happened. Mal ran his hand through his hair, wondering how she could have disappeared so quickly, and cleanly.

_That explosion, that's how,_ he cursed himself. He'd ran out to see what the commotion was just like everyone else. He couldn't be angry about that. No one had foreseen that the killer would use something like that as a distraction.

_He had to know we was watching!_ Mal's mind seized on that thought like a drowning man might to a life jacket. Had someone let slip what they were doing? Had they been too obvious about covering her? And how in Budha's name had he managed to _take_ her? Albatross was a rarely gifted reader. You couldn't think of anything that she didn't pick up on. She could read people's emotions as easily as Mal read the newspaper. Not that he read it much these days.

"Nothing yet, Mal," Toby said as he walked up, breathing heavily. "We're still looking. Even got men goin' door to door, now," he motioned where two deputies were systematically going through the entire town.

"I seen the tapes," Toby continued. "The man that was talking to her is the one who took her. See it plain as day on the playback."

"We know who he is?" Mal asked, his voice dangerously calm.

"Never seen 'im before," Toby shook his head. "We're showin' his picture around. Somebody'll know who he is."

"And hopefully where we can find him," Mal nodded.

"Mal, you look rough," Toby started. "Might be best if you took a break, and rested a bi. . . ." Toby trailed off at the look Mal gave him.

"When she's back, _safe_, I'll rest," Mal said softly. "Not until."

"Well, I gotta get back," Toby shrugged. "Don't get down on me, Mal. I can't take it, not right now." Mal nodded his assent, or at least his acknowledgment of the request. Toby sighed, running his hands through his hair as he headed off to continue coordinating the search effort.

Bailey and his men had pitched right in, Mal had to admit. Toby had gave the orders, and the men from Argo City had taken them without a word. Which was why, for now, Mal wasn't making good on his promise.

Day wasn't over yet, though.

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The man River knew as 'Bret Hardin' watched through a small basement window as deputies frantically searched the town.

_They had to be watching her_, he realized suddenly. He turned to where the still unconscious woman was hanging from a beam of wood. She wouldn't wake for a good while, and he was in no hurry. He hadn't expected this. After his trick with Reeves, he hadn't even considered that the law would try something so stupid again.

_But you should have_, his self-recrimination echoed through his mind. _You should have_.

He didn't panic, of course. He had time. He had never planned to take the girl from town, anyway. But he couldn't get to his 'workshop' with her right now, the way he had intended. He had no choice but to lay low here, and wait for the flurry of activity to die down.

For a brief instant, he considered just abandoning her. Leave her here for the searchers to find, and use the time they were searching to make his escape. It was the prudent thing to do, his mind reasoned.

But he did so love a challenge. And this was nothing if not a challenge. He quietly examined all his available options. He could run, of course. He could wait out the search. It was unlikely in the extreme they would find him here. In fact, he was reasonably sure it was the last place they would look.

He could simply kill her, now, and slip away. He shook his head at that. _If they were watching, they've seen me. I can't get by them, now._ A firm resolve suddenly filled him.

_If this is it, _he decided suddenly, _if this is where I get it, then they're going to have to work for it. And they're going to pay while they're at it._

He would have to leave her, for now. Moving quickly, he made sure of her bonds. She would not be able to escape without help. At that thought, he forced a gag into her mouth, in case she woke before he returned. That shouldn't happen, but a lot of things had already happened today that shouldn't have.

Satisfied for now, the man known only as _Ghoul_ in nearly two dozen systems began making plans for his grand finale.


	27. Chapter 27

Sins of the Past – Chapter Twenty Seven

Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.

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Mal hobbled into the office, his leg hurting as badly as he could remember since he'd been up and around. His fatigue made it even worse. His worry about River practically doubled it. But that same worry was all that was keeping him on his feet.

Every man he had was on duty, scouring the town for any sign of the woman he loved like a daughter. Or of the man she'd been with when the explosion hit. So far there'd been no sign of either.

"Sheriff, there's something I need to show you," Evelyn said as he walked inside. "I. . . ."

"Not now, Evelyn, please," Mal asked. "I need to sit down somewhere and rest for a minute."

"Well, this may help with. . . ."

"Please, Evelyn," Mal asked again. "Give me a few minutes."

"Yes, sir," the woman sighed. Mal walked past without noticing the worried look on her face. His pain and fatigue battered mind couldn't process it at the moment. He settled into his chair, and leaned back, sighing at the slight relief the action provided. He reached into a desk drawer and removed the small bottle of pain meds that Simon had given him, shaking out two. He washed the bitter pills down with coffee, grimacing at the taste. That done, he leaned his head back, hoping to feel some relief soon.

If only River had listened to him. To Simon. To Jayne. Hell to anyone. She'd been so determined. So _stubborn_. He wished he had arrested her, now, like Jayne had said. Or even used the safe word, like Inara wanted. It would have been worth the ass whipping River had vaguely promised to know that she was safe, rather than in the hands of the monster.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Without waiting for a reply, Evelyn walked in, a folder in her hands.

"Sheriff, you need to take a look at this. . . ." she started again.

"Evelyn, for the love o' Buddha, I said not now!" Mal's voice rose as he spoke, and he winced at having raised his voice to her in such a way. "I'm sorry. . . ."

"I don't care," Evelyn shook it off. "This thing with this. . ._slasher_, person, has been bothering me."

"It's bothering us all," Mal sighed wearily.

"No, I mean something about it has bothered me," Evelyn again waved off Mal's comments. "It was like I'd seen it before. At first I thought it was just because we'd all been so immersed in it. That everything was just running together. But the idea that it was all somehow, familiar, I guess, just wouldn't leave me be. So, I started doing some research." She tossed the folder on Mal's desk.'

"He's been here before," she announced. "In fact, I think he _started_ here."

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_He had gone out. It would have been comical, he thought, had it not been so serious. He was trying so hard to look unconcerned and uninteresting that he was afraid he was going to attract attention by trying to not attract attention. _

_But, he hadn't. He'd made his way out, and back again, bringing his 'tools' with him. He laughed softly to himself, imagining what the law dogs would say or think if they knew where he was at the moment._

_The girl was right where he'd left her, still out like a light. He wasn't surprised. The drug shouldn't wear off for at least another three hours, by his watch. He took his time, studying her._

_She was a real beauty, he decided. And so, so like the one, long ago. She could be her sister, at the very least. Well. A cousin, at the very least, anyway._

_He carefully laid out his equipment, placing each implement exactly where he wanted it. This was too perfect for mistakes, or clumsiness. He'd never imagined a chance to relive his first 'work'. Yet, against all odds, here was that very opportunity, staring him in the face. Or at least so close as made no difference._

_He wanted time to go slowly, he decided. He wanted it to last._

_He wanted to relish it. Revel in it._

_He would make it last as long as he could._

Jayne looked at the clock on the bulkhead. Still five hours from home. He sighed, realizing that all he was doing was making the time go slower. He got up from his bunk and went to a small foot locker. It took him a minute to remember the combination, so long had it been since he'd opened it. He finally got it right, and raised the lid.

Inside lay most all that was left of Michael Ironhorse, or Shade, as some people knew him. He carefully lifted a sealed container that held all of the family possessions he'd been able to save from the ashes of his home, and laid them aside. Beneath that was a layer of leather, traditional clothing made for him by his mother. That too went aside.

From the bottom of the small case he took a leather wrapped bundle, tied with pigging string. Replacing the other articles, he closed the locker, and reset the lock. Taking the bundle, he moved to the small table. He carefully placed the bundle onto the table, untied the strings, and opened the leather roll.

Inside lay several knives, hand axes, a small blowgun with darts, and one other item. It was this item that he chose. Hefting the large knife from it's resting place, the weight was unusual to him, after so long.

The grip was made with the skull antler of a large stag, an animal Jayne had taken himself as a boy. The blade was a dull, dark grey beneath a heavy coat of wax. The wax had been placed with pain staking precision, using a burning candle. The entire blade was coated, allowing no air to reach it. With a single, fluid move, Jayne's arm rose and fell, the blade striking the table on the edge. The wax fell away in pieces, which he ignored.

The blade was no more shiny without the wax than it had been. A dull, lifeless grey, the blade bore as many scars as Jayne himself did. Though it was clearly well cared for, it was equally clear that the blade was a tool, and had seen much use. Jayne tested the edge, and frowned. That wouldn't do. Not at all. Selecting a small, flat jeweler's file from the tools in the leather roll, Jayne settled back against the wall, and began to run the file down one side of the blade, and then the other. Slowly, methodically.

Soon, his entire world was taken up by the knife, and the file. One side, then the other. One side, then the other. His total concentration was on the blade, the file, and the effect the file was having on the edge.

Nothing else registered. Nothing else mattered.

One side, then the other.

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"What do you mean?" Mal looked at his secretary. "Started here?"

"I remember my momma talking about it," Evelyn told him, opening the file on his desk. "It was years ago, I was just a little girl. The was a girl killed. She had just graduated from high school." She held up several pictures. Mal looked at the blood soaked images.

Before the Slasher, the scene might have turned Mal's stomach. Now he only noticed the similarities with his current problem. But. . . .

"These look a lot more. . . ." Mal pondered.

"Amateurish," Evelyn finished for him. "Like it was his first time, maybe?" she added, eyebrows raising slightly. Mal looked up at her.

"You do all this yourself?" he asked, as if seeing her for the first time. She nodded, albeit a bit hesitantly.

"I know it's not my job," she shrugged. "But. . . ."

"No buts," Mal raised a hand. "Start looking for your replacement tomorrow, first thing."

"What?" Evelyn's voice matched the stunned look on her face. "But I was trying to _help_!"

"You have helped," Mal assured her. "And I'm not firing you, I'm _replacing_ you. You're moving up a bit. Anyone who can do this well, you're going to start wearing a badge. _Dong ma?_"

"But. . .but. . .but I'm not an officer!" Evelyn still looked stunned. "I'm. . . ."

"You aren't yet," Mal nodded. "But do you want to be? I need people who can do work like this, Evelyn. Toby will need it when I'm gone."

"Gone?"

"I'll have to step down soon, Evelyn," Mal told her. "I can't stay in office after all this. You know that. Toby will take over for me when I resign. Meantime, I've got to find people to help him after I'm gone. Interested?" Evelyn looked at him for a moment, then down at the file she'd gathered.

She had done all of this just trying to help. She'd never imagined that something like this would come of it. Suddenly she realized that she might just be good at this kind of thing.

"Yes, sir," she nodded, a bit hesitant still, but her voice was firm. "Yes, I'm interested."

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River came around slowly. He mind was befuddled by the drugs in her system, throwing her senses far off kilter. She groaned slightly at the ache in her head. As soon as she did, she heard movement. Looking up, she realized that her vision was blurred.

Slowly at first, then rushing back, she remembered who she was, what she had been doing. Her eyes widened with the realization that she was firmly bound and gagged. The man she'd been talking to in the park walked into her line of sight, smiling. The smile made her shudder.

"Well, Peggy," 'Hardin' said, "looks like you're finally up and around. I'm glad to see that. We have a great deal to do still today." As his mind began playing over his 'work', the images flooded her mind. Against her will she tried to draw away from him, but was unable to do so.

"Now, now," he said, chiding her as if they were in a classroom. "No need for all that. I'm afraid you're quite firmly attached to the beam. You won't be going anywhere for a while yet. And we've still got to get to know each other! Why, I hardly know you at all. But you _are_ full of surprises, aren't you? Naughty girl, trying to set me up for the police. We'll discuss that in _much _greater detail later on, I assure you. But, in the meantime, I want to get to know more about you. The real you, as it were, since the 'you' I thought I was talking to seems to be a fabrication. So, where to begin?" He walked closer, stopping only when he was within arms reach. Reaching out to take hold of her dress, he held up a scalpel.

"Let's start with these."


	28. Chapter 28

Sins of the Past – Chapter Twenty Eight

Author owns no rights what-so-ever to Firefly, nor the universe in which it lives. He writes solely for his own amusement. It's okay not to sue him.

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River screamed.

She tried not to, but as the scalpel sliced along her abdomen, she couldn't hold it anymore. The gag in her mouth muffled the sound, but the pleased look on the Slasher's face, on _Ghoul's_ face, at the sound of her screaming made her feel more defeated than the scream itself.

"Well, now," the killer smiled in delight. "I was wondering how long it would take to break you. You're a tough little thing, aren't you?" River's eyes clouded with tears at his taunting.

She had been so sure, so supremely confident that she could succeed where everyone else had failed. Yet here she was, completely helpless in the hands of a deranged psychopath. For the first time in a very long time, River felt real fear.

"You lasted longer than anyone ever has," Ghoul told her. "I wouldn't have thought you had it in you, just to look at you. Makes me wonder who you really are." He laid aside the small surgical blade, and studied her.

River's clothes were long since gone, lying in tatters on the floor around her. She was completely exposed to his prying eyes. She sensed no sexual pleasure from her tormentor, however. His gaze was more observant than anything else.

"Wondering why I'm doing this, I expect," he caught her off guard. "I've never spent this much time studying a canvas," he told her. The word 'canvas' shocked her. She remembered telling Kaylee, what seemed long ago now, that the killer probably thought of his crimes as 'work'. She hadn't known, then, how accurate that was.

"But you intrigue me," Ghoul went on, unaware of River's thoughts. "You really thought you could catch me, didn't you?" His tone had a hint of amusement, but River could sense genuine interest as well. She merely looked back at him.

"Still defiant, I see," the killer chuckled. "That's a good thing, though. For me. I want you to stay that way for as long as you can," he added, selecting another 'tool' from his assortment. "It's more fun, more _fulfilling_ for me."

River fought her tears as the Ghoul brought more pain to bear upon her.

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_Private Companion_ settled easily onto the pad with Inara at the controls. She had intended to allow Chelsa to land the ship, but that had been before the news of River's disappearance. The girl was far to upset to be at the helm right now. Of course, Inara was upset as well, but she was older. Better able to set her grief aside and do what was required.

"You two stay put," Jayne ordered from behind them. Inara looked around and had to fight to stifle her gasp. Jayne was almost unrecognizable.

His face was painted in a variety of dull colors. She realized that it would help hide him. His clothes were very similar. And familiar. She realized with a start that this was how Jayne had dressed, had looked, when he went after Zhang. River had referred to it as 'going on the warpath'. Inara could understand that now. Jayne _exuded_ menace. Violence.

_Jayne's not the one talking to us now,_ she decided. _It's Shade._

"Boy'll keep watch. Do what he says, when he says. Understand?" This at Chelsa, who nodded mutely. She had never seen Jayne like this, and was struck dumb at the sight of him.

Without another word, Jayne turned and left the bridge. In less than a minute, he was off the ship, and gone, into the night.

"I. . . ." Chelsa started, then stopped, looking helplessly at Inara.

"I know, dear," Inara smiled as gamely as she could. "I suppose we should talk about Jayne some. There are things you probably should know. And," she sighed, rising from her seat, "we appear to have plenty of time. Let's head to the galley and make some tea. We have a lot to talk about. But first I need to make a call."

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Mal switched off the cortex feed after telling Inara that he loved her. He was glad she was back, and that she was staying on the ship for the time being. He was more than confident that Liam Greggs could protect her and Chelsa.

He was less glad about what she'd told him. He had expected it, of course, but the idea of Jayne on the warpath, here in town, wasn't the comfort some might have thought. Jayne wasn't over concerned about things like 'collateral damage'. It would go badly for anyone who got in his way.

Which made Mal think of Bailey. The over bearing Marshal would likely get in Jayne's way. And then there would be a career opportunity with the Marshal's Service, since Bailey would be as dead as Earth-that-was. Mal sighed, and got painfully to his feet.

Leaving the office, Mal encountered Toby Bontrager, the Investigator making another round through the area around the park, looking for anything that might help him.

"Boss," the man nodded.

"We may have a problem, Toby," Mal said quietly.

"As compared to how well things have been goin'?" Toby snorted.

"Jayne's here," Mal told him, and Toby's eyes got a bit wider.

"Oh. . . ."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Mal nodded. "Inara said he's painted for war. We need, _quietly_, to make sure that all of our people know to give him a wide berth. And have one of the Greggs' boys keep an eye on those idiots from the Marshals Service. If they try to stop him, Jayne will cloud up and rain all over them."

"They wouldn't last ten seconds against Cobb," Toby snorted.

"I don't want them to be where Jayne would think he had to kill them," Mal replied sternly. "We got enough trouble as it is."

"That's true," Toby sighed. "I'll take care of it."

"Anything turnin' up?" Mal asked needlessly. If it had, he'd have been called at once.

"No," Toby sighed in defeat. "I'm sorry, Mal."

"Ain't your fault, Tobe," Mal patted the man's shoulder. "Get goin'."

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River fought to stifle another scream. She had to try and outlast Ghoul. The longer she could hold out, the more time Mal and the others would have to find her.

She was sure that the killer hadn't taken her very far. She could clearly sense other minds nearby. At least when she wasn't fighting the pain that Ghoul was inflicting on her. Once she was sure she had caught a flash of Mal's worry, but it was gone even as it registered on her.

And even had he been outside the windows, he might as well have been on Astra. She had no way to let him know where she was.

_Jayne I'm so sorry!_ she sobbed silently. _If you can hear me, please, forgive me. Help me._

"You really are a tough one," Ghoul told her gleefully. "I'm going to have to get more serious with you, I can see." He began to slice again, and the pain was the worst so far. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she tried, and failed, to prevent the pain from making her scream again. Wailing in defeat, she screamed again into the gag, only to hear her tormentor laugh.

"Now that's more like it!" The images from his mind assailed her without let up. She couldn't block his thoughts, horrid though they were, from buffeting against her. She was helpless.

Without realizing it, she began to fall back on the only defense she had left. One that had served her long ago, when she was at the mercy of the Academy.

_The girl is being hurt, not me,_ she thought to herself, the idea unbidden. Realizing the thought for what it was, she tried to fight it.

_I am not that weak little girl anymore!_ she screamed in her mind. _I will not break, or crumble!_

The pain bit into her again.

_He is hurting the girl again._

_NO! she screamed mentally. He will NOT take my life, my memories from me. I will not let this happen again._

_But the girl is hurting_, her mind argued. _We must separate ourselves from the girl, or we will be hurt as well._

_I AM THE GIRL!_ she fought back.

_The girl is hurting._

_The girl is in pain._

_The girl is injured._

Unable to overcome it, River sank once more into the mindless state that had let her survive the Academy. Even as she did, she knew that this time, she would not survive.

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Jayne had been ghosting along the streets in Bickford, near where River had been abducted, when it happened.

_Help me_!

He stopped dead in his tracks.

_River?_

Nothing.

_River, can you hear me? Tell me where you are bao bei. Lead me to you!_

Again, nothing.

It was a start. He started heading a different direction.

He could still almost hear her. Not _her_, but her mind. Jayne could feel her presence. He could feel her mind working.

_She's in pain_, he realized suddenly. The bastard was hurting her!

_Calmly, boy, _he warned himself. _You're the only chance she has. Don't let anger cloud your mind._ Taking several deep breaths, he calmed himself, cleared his head.

Carefully, he began to 'listen' for her.

_Don't give up, Angel_, he thought as hard as he could toward her. _I'm coming._

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"Any sign of Cobb?" Toby asked Mal.

"No, but there wouldn't be," Mal shook his head. He remembered the specter of Jayne appearing out of nowhere that night on the hill behind Zhang's mansion. The man was a ghost, when he wanted to be. And tonight would be one of those nights, Mal was sure.

"Ryan is watching the Marshals," Toby informed him. "And all of our people know to stay clear of Cobb," he added. Mal nodded.

"You think he'll find her?" Toby's voice was hopeful.

"If anyone can," Mal nodded again. "He's. . .he's scary," Mal admitted it finally, to Toby and himself. "He won't be concerned in the least with bringing the Slasher to us alive."

"Good," Toby nodded in approval. "Sum' bitch deserves to die. Die painfully, at that," he added with venom.

"Jayne gets hold of 'im, I can practical guarantee that."

"Then we need to start workin' on a way to cover him," Toby surprised Mal. He looked at his future replacement.

"And just how you plan on doin' that?"

"I dunno, but I'll work on it."

"You do that," Mal replied. "And while you're at it, see can you figure out a way to keep Bailey from doin' something stupid. Like tryin' ta take Jayne into custody. Or talkin' to 'im, for that matter. He ain't like to survive the experience."

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"You've gone quiet again, I see."

The girl looked back at him impassively. Ghoul studied her for a moment. _She may be in shock._ He reached up and untied the gag.

"You aren't leaving me so soon are you?" he asked with a nasty smile.

"She is unable to leave," the girl replied calmly. Ghoul frowned at that.

"I know that," he said without thinking. "I meant you aren't playing out on me, are you? Getting too weak to fight?"

"She cannot fight you, she is restrained," came the dull, disinterested reply.

"Why are you talking so funny?"

"She was not aware she was being humorous." Again, dull, calm. Ghoul studied her closely.

"What's wrong with you?" he demanded.

"She has been cut, she has lost a good deal of blood. She will die soon, if bleeding is not stopped, and healing is not allowed to occur."

"Oh, you'll die," the killer snarled. It was the first sign of anger he had shown. The girl stared back at him, emotionless.

"She is aware of her fate."

"And scared too, right?" he asked gleefully.

"The girl is not afraid," came the monotone reply. "She cannot control what happens to her. She cannot stop you. She is helpless to resist. The girl knows this, and thus she cannot be afraid. All she can do is endure."

"Endure, huh?" Ghoul laughed. "You seem to have lost your spunk, Peggy."

"Her name is not Peggy," the girl replied. He frowned.

"What is your name, then?" he asked, despite himself.

"She is the girl. She is nameless. She is no one."

"You've got a name," Ghoul told her coldly. "And I want to hear you say it."

"The girl is nameless. She had a name once, but it was taken from her. Now she is merely the girl. The project. The experiment."

"What?"

"She has no name."

"I think you do have a name," the killer taunted. "And I think you're going to give it to me, before this is over."

"She will never give you her name, for she has none. She is merely the girl."

"Well, _Girl_, I beg to differ." With that he took the bottle on the table and opened it.

"Alcohol," the girl said tonelessly. "Used to clean and disinfect. Causes pain and burning when applied to wounds for cleaning."

"Yes, it does," the killer smiled. Then he turned the bottle up, pouring the liquid over the cuts on her body.

The girl screamed.

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Jayne stopped in his tracks. His head suddenly felt like it would burst open. As he tried to recover he heard it.

Screaming. River was screaming.

He headed for the sound. As he went, his hand fell to the great long knife without the need for conscious thought. He drew the blade, holding it down and away, as he arrived at the building where he thought the scream had come from.

_Where would you be? _he thought, working his way carefully to the nearest window. _Up or down?_

Definitely down, he decided. Hidden. Like vermin.

He placed the blade of his knife against the window.

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The girl had lapsed into unconsciousness. He set the bottle back on the table, looking at his latest project.

She was a fighter alright. And crazy besides. He wondered where all the 'project' talk had come from. And the bit about the name. He'd never had a canvas forget it's name before.

So engrossed in his thoughts was he, Ghoul never heard the faint steps behind him. Never even really felt the blow to his head as the light went dark. Never felt himself hit the floor.

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Jayne allowed his mind to open as Ghoul hit the floor. There'd be time to deal with him later. Right now, he stared at his wife, hung up like a piece of meat.

Tears came to his eyes as he looked at the damage done to her little body. So much blood. He hurried to her, cutting her loose with four simple swipes of the knife in his hands.

"River?" he managed to croak out.

No response.

"River!" he shook her. Still nothing. Desperately he felt for a pulse. For a terrible few seconds he thought she was dead.

_Thump_.

There! It was weak, but she had a pulse. She was breathing! So long as she was alive, she had a chance.

Jayne removed his shirt, and carefully wrapped her damaged, naked body inside it, covering her, and her wounds. He paused long enough to take care of one other thing, then he was on his feet, River in his arms. The door out fell to one vicious kick, and then he was sprinting down the hall, up the stairs.

Outside. The front door was closed. Jayne realized with a start where he was, and simply ran at the door, his large boot slamming into it. The door cracked, and he covered River with his bulk as he simply crashed on though it to the outside.

Jayne rushed down the steps, already knowing where he was going. It wasn't far.

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Evelyn's scream jarred Mal from his stupor of fatigue. He'd been dozing in his chair, his strength finally gone. The pain pills he'd taken had caused sleep to take him despite his best intentions.

Hobbling to the door of his office he threw it open, gun in hand as he rushed into the lobby.

Evelyn was still screaming, and Mal honestly couldn't blame her. It was a scary scene.

Jayne, shirtless, covered in blood, face painted like a monster, stood in the lobby. Holding a small, limp form in his arms.

"Get Simon!" he ordered. Mal nodded.

"Evelyn, stop that screaming, and get an ambulance up here on the double!" The woman looked at him dumbly, then at the menacing form still standing in the door of the office.

"Now!" the specter growled. She grabbed the phone. Mal walked to another desk and called Simon.

"Simon, need you at the hospital, right now! Jayne found 'tross and she's hurt bad looks like!"

"I'm on my way," Simon didn't bother asking questions. The mere fact that River was alive, and Jayne had found her was enough for the moment.

Jayne walked to the couch, carefully laying the precious bundle in his arms on it's length.

"Get me a blanket!" he demanded. Evelyn ran to a closet, returning with the ordered blanket. Jayne wrapped River in it as best he could. He stood, looking at Evelyn.

"Stay with her," he ordered, and she didn't even think of not doing it. Just nodded, and knelt beside the couch. Jayne looked then at Mal.

"You make sure nothin' happens to her, and that she gets to the hospital quick like. I'll be back." He was already moving toward the door.

"Jayne, where are you goin'?" Mal screeched. "You can't leave now!"

"Got a mess to clean up," Jayne threw over his shoulder. "Best tell your folks to stay outta my way. I ain't in no mood for triflin'."

"But. . .but. . . ." Mal spluttered. It didn't matter. He was talking to the night.

Jayne was gone.


	29. Chapter 29

Sins of the Past – Chapter Twenty Nine

Writer owns no part of Firefly, and intends no infringement. He writes only to torment others. . .wait, that doesn't sound right. . . . .

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Everyone had dropped what they were doing and converged on the hospital. River was rushed to the Emergency Ward as soon as the ambulance arrived. Simon arrived a short time later, but Doctor Evans was already working on River's injuries. He went inside to find his sister lying unconscious, with horrible cuts all over her body.

She was being given blood in both arms, never a good sign. There were seven people crammed into the room, all working on his _mei mei._

"Simon, you need to leave," Evans told him, having glanced up and catching sight of him.

"I can help!" Simon objected, though his eyes never left his sister.

"There's nothing you can do that we can't," Evans told him, his voice gentle, but firm. "You need to wait outside."

"She's my _sister_!" Simon almost shouted.

"All the more reason you should be waiting outside, and not be in here," Evans pointed out reasonably. "Go, Simon. We'll take care of her. Like she was our own." Heads nodded around the table.

Simon would never know why, but he went. Later, he would agree that it was the right decision. Right now, he didn't know up from down.

By this time everyone was in the waiting room. Inara and Chelsa had flown him in on the shuttle, and Liam Greggs was sitting near them, eyes watching everyone like a hawk.

Kaylee and her family had arrived shortly afterward, having been escorted by a sheriff's patrol. Zoe and Goldie were there as well, having put off their departure to Astra.

"How is she, Simon?" Inara asked for the group, as Kaylee hurried over to her husband.

"I. . .I don't know," he admitted. "It. . .she looked bad," he added. "But they're doing all they can.

Mal arrived just then, and Inara hurried to him, embracing him tightly.

"Any word?" he asked.

"Not much," Inara admitted. "Simon said it looked bad."

"It is bad," Mal nodded, remembering the sight of his Albatross lying on the couch, bleeding from so many cuts he couldn't count them.

"Did you catch him?" Inara asked. Mal shook his head.

"Jayne found her."

"Where is Jayne?"

"Good question," was all the answer Mal had.

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The man called Ghoul came awake slowly. He couldn't remember, at first, what had happened. As it came back to him, he was aware of several things, more or less all at once.

First, he wasn't where he was supposed to be. By the look of things he was not only outside, but far from anywhere. A swamp, from the looks of things.

Second, he was tied to a tree, naked as the day he was born. He worked frantically at his bonds, but had no room to even wiggle. As he assessed his situation, a sick feeling settled in his stomach.

Laying on the ground near him were his 'tools'. They were still bloody, he noted absently. There were also three fires burning. They were small, but all three had beds of hot coals. A large antler-handled knife was lying in the coals of one fire. The others were just sitting there, burning.

"'Bout time," he heard a voice to his right. Turning his head, he saw a very large man leaning against a nearby tree, watching him. The man's face betrayed little emotion. His eyes, however, were almost wild with violence.

"Who are you?" Ghoul asked.

"Retribution," the large man replied calmly. He straightened from his pose against the tree, walking slowly over to where the killer stood. Ghoul felt a shiver run up his spine as he looked again at the eyes of the man walking toward him.

"You're making a mistake," Ghoul warned, in what he fondly imagined was a threatening tone. The man before him laughed mirthlessly.

"No, was you what made the mistake," he replied. "You woke up something that was better left dead." The man knelt beside the fire with the knife, pulling it from the flame. The blade was glowing.

"Made of iron," the big man said, his voice conversational. "Learned it from an old man in my village. Hard to keep sharp, but worth the effort." He walked back to the killer.

"Who are you?" Ghoul asked again, unable to tear his eyes away from the knife.

"I'm the last face you'll ever see this side of hell."

The red hot knife slashed. The blade was razor sharp, and easily cut the killer's skin. He screamed in pain, writing against the heat more than the cut. He looked down, expecting to see blood.

"Cauterizes the wound," his tormentor explained in a bored voice. "Keeps ya from bleedin' out." The man was suddenly right in Ghoul's face.

"Feels a little different now, I guess," he snarled just loud enough for the killer to hear. "You ain't really so much, you know," the man said, even as the still glowing blade made another trip across Ghoul's skin. The smell of burning flesh assaulted his nostrils even as another scream was ripped from his throat.

"Big man, ain't you?"

"_Who are you!_"

"People like you call me Shade."

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Bailey walked into the waiting room, looking around. His eyes fell on Mal, sitting on a small sofa with Inara, Chelsa huddled with them. He walked over to them.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

"She's in there being treated." Mal's voice was strained, and Inara reached out to take his hand. She noted it was trembling, and realized that Mal was on the verge of striking out.

"Who found her?" Bailey continued.

"Her husband," Mal replied truthfully.

"Where is he?"

"Doin' your job, most like," Goldie chose to join the discussion. "Ain't you got nothin' better to do than harass the victim's family? 'Fore they even know is she gonna live or not?"

"Goldie. . . ." Mal started, but Tarrant cut him off.

"No, Mal. Not no more." He turned to Bailey.

"Get out," his voice cracked across the room. "We ain't got time nor room fer you right now. And, a word of advice. You come across the kid, I'd leave 'im be. He eats punks like you for breakfast."

"Are you threatening me?" Bailey asked, incredulous.

"Not so much threatenin' as _guaranteein' ya_," Goldie smiled nastily. "Now get out, before I throw you out. And 'fore you say anything else, that badge in your pocket means exactly nothing to me. _Dong ma?"_

Bailey looked at the hostile faces in the room, and for once made a good decision.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know when she's okay to be interviewed," he told Mal tightly. Mal nodded, but said nothing else. Bailey could feel Goldie's eyes on him all the way to the door.

"Thanks, Goldie," Mal said tiredly.

"Don't mention it," the blonde haired engineer waved it off. "I'ma make sure he _goes_, though."

"I'll come with," Zoe said, rising from her own chair. Goldie took her hand in his, and the pair headed for the door.

"Won't be no more intrusions," Goldie promised over his shoulder.

"Thank you," Simon called this time. Goldie waved, and then he and Zoe were out the door.

The others reverted to silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they leaned on one another for comfort.

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The man called Ghoul had never been on the receiving end of pain such as he had inflicted on his victims. In the course of a few hours, he had been reduced to a blubbering, ruined, wreck of a man.

"We still got a ways to go," Jayne told him matter-of-factly. "This is called the Thousand Cuts," he added. "We ain't nowhere near there, yet."

"Please," Ghoul blubbered through his sobs. "Please, no more."

"How many young girls beg you like that, to stop?" Jayne asked. His head was cocked to the side, examining his victim as if deciding whether to eat him now, or save him for later.

"Please," Ghoul repeated. "Please."

"You want mercy?" Jayne's head rolled to the other side. His eyes were flat as death, and that scared Ghoul more than the thought of more torture. "I'm let down, somehow," Jayne sighed. "See, I ain't let this side o' me come out and play for a long time. I was expectin' you ta be a challenge, ya know? I figured I'd have to really work to break you. And look at you. Beggin' like a little girl."

The scorn in 'Shade's' voice cut through his pain. Ghoul's head shot up, his fear gone for the moment.

"Fuck you!" he snarled. Only to be rewarded with a smile.

"That's more like it!"

The knife slashed again. And again.

And again.

Ghoul's screams echoed across the marsh.

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Somewhere along the way, he had lost consciousness. As he came awake, he realized he was no longer against the tree. Instead he was spread eagled on the ground.

"Welcome back," Shade told him. He knelt to examine one of the straps that held Ghoul on the ground.

"Rawhide," he explained, as if giving instructions to a pupil. "Put it on wet, but she's dryin' out, now. Draws up when it does that." He stood again, and walked to where he could look directly down at Ghoul.

"There ain't much man in you," he said simply. "Fact, I ain't found no man at all in you so far. You're only fit for the cooking fires and tanning hides. Woman's work." He walked to where a bucket sat, glowing from the heat inside. Ghoul was suddenly very afraid, more that he had been at any time up to that point in this encounter.

"See, my people, they figure if a man ain't a man, he ain't got no need for gonads," Shade explained simply. "Ain't no reason for you to have'em, cause you ain't gonna use'em for nothin'. 'Nads is a man's equipment. You ain't a man, then you don't need'em."

Without further ado, he turned the bucket up, emptying the hot, fresh, glowing coals onto Ghoul's scrotum.

Even through the pain he was aware of Shade's smile.

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Evans and his crew had worked on River for over fourteen hours. As the exhausted doctor walked into the waiting room, everyone gathered around him.

"How is she?" Simon's question was echoed by at least five other voices.

"She's stable," Evans told him. "She's taken five units of blood, so far. I think that will be all, but we'll have to wait and see."

"We've cleaned all the cuts," he continued. "They're still working on the last of them, but so far it's taken over a thousand stitches. Some of the cuts were deep, and all of them straight lines from a very sharp edge. If I had to guess, at least some of them were made from a surgical scalpel." Simon's face paled at that, and Kaylee buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing.

"Will she live?" Simon asked flatly.

"She should," Evans nodded with confidence. "We'll have to watch her for at least a week for signs of infection, I'd say. Maybe longer. And it'll be that long before she's able to walk, in a likelihood. Some of the cuts were on the bottoms of her feet. We'll have to keep her off them, not only for the stitches to hold, but to prevent infection." Simon nodded mutely. He wasn't used to being the one who received bad news. Usually, he was the one reporting on the patient.

"I have to get back, and make sure that nothing happens with the final stitches. We've had a little trouble sealing some of the cuts, even with staples. We've had to double sew more than a few of them."

"Thank you, doctor," Inara smiled. "We appreciate your time, and the attention you're giving to her."

"It's what we do," Evans smiled wanly. The truth was, he'd never seen anything as bad as that girl. And he'd been a doctor on an agrarian moon for more than twenty years. He was accustomed to treating injuries resulting from people being caught in the internal workings of harvest equipment.

"Well, at least that's some good news," Mal sighed. He realized with a start that the sun was up. He looked at his watch.

"We've been here more than twelve hours!" he exclaimed softly to Inara. She nodded, and turned to Simon.

"Simon, I'm going to take Mal home for now. He's exhausted. We'll take Chelsa with us until. . .until. Is there anything you need?"

"We'll be here," Caleb Frye told her gently. "You go on and see to him. We'll be here if they have need."

"Thank you," Inara and Simon said at the same time. Simon collapsed onto the sofa, with Kaylee holding his head in her lap while he cried at last, now that he knew River would live. She was hurt, and badly at that, but she would live.

Inara guided Mal to the car, with Chelsa and Liam's help, and he went without protest. He was at the end of his rope, both physically and mentally. When they got home Chelsa and Liam again assisted her in getting Mal into the house, and then into bed. She undressed him, since he had fallen asleep as soon as he'd hit the bed.

Inara let him sleep through the day. Liam and Chelsa slept as well, though not nearly as long nor as hard. With the house asleep, Inara prowled, her mind on too many things to allow her to sleep.

Mal would have to take it easy. He wasn't able to keep this up. He would probably quit, anyway, now that River was safe.

_Safe? Is that what she is?_ Inara shook her head. There was no way to know what psychological damage had been done to her. Not until she was awake. She had come so far, only to have something like this happen. What would it do to her mind, already so fragile? She suspected that Doctor Evans would keep her sedated for a day or so. Perhaps longer. Would she know, while under sedation, that she was safe? No longer in Ghoul's clutches? Or would she relive it over and over as she lay there in the false sleep of sedatives? River had told them how she had relived the Blue Hands torture whenever Simon sedated her on _Serenity_.

She wondered how Jayne would react to that.

Thinking of that reminded her of something else; _where was Jayne?_

Mal had told them Jayne had been the one to find her, but had disappeared as soon as he could leave her in Mal's hands. Why?

_He's found the killer, that's why_. The thought hit her all at once. She should have realized it sooner. She was tired, and it affected her thinking.

Simon was near to breaking, she feared. The look on his face as Evans had detailed River's injuries was enough to tell her that. Mal had seen River's wounds, and all he would say was that it was 'bad'.

_After fourteen hours of transfusions and stitches, was there any doubt that it was _bad? she wondered. For a moment, Inara couldn't help but think of the scars it would leave. As if River hadn't had enough scars.

"Miss Inara?"

Inara turned, startled by the voice. It as Chelsa.

"I'm gonna start on supper, Miss Inara," Chelsa told her softly. "Is there anything in particular you'd like?"

Supper? Inara looked at her watch, and realized with a shock that she had spent nearly the entire day brooding. No wonder she felt tired.

"No, dear," she smiled, rising to her feet. "Mrs. Blalock is off today. I will help you. We'll have something together in no time."

Grateful for any sign of normalcy, Inara accompanied the younger woman into the kitchen.

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Ghoul once more swam up from the depths of unconsciousness, and wished he hadn't. It made him remember the pain. Not that he needed a reminder. It was night time, he barely registered. Shade was sitting beside one of the fires, his legs crossed, chanting something. Suddenly his eyes shot open, and he looked at Ghoul.

Seeing Ghoul awake, Shade rose from the ground in a lithe move, walking over to a bucket. Removing the top, he upended the jug on top of his victim.

The killer screamed in reflex, having become used to Shade causing him pain. But this time, there was no pain. As the liquid splashed across his face, he tasted some of it.

Honey.

"You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find this shit here," Shade told him, emptying the jug, and setting it aside. "I mean, you'd think a farming moon would have honey everywhere right? Am I right?"

"W...what are you d...doing?" Ghoul managed to gasp out. Shade had picked up a shovel.

"Got something I gotta take care of," Shade told him. "Be right back."

"D. . .digging my g. . .grave?" Ghoul asked, stammering through his pain.

"You must be joking," came the reply. "Someone like you doesn't deserve a grave. You deserve to wander the 'verse as a spirit, never able to rest, never able to find peace. See, my people believe that the sins of the past, they come back to haunt you. You're never free of them. No, I'm just gettin' something." Ghoul heard the spade hit the earth, and foot steps coming back.

The dirt hit his honey coated feet, and lower legs, and Ghoul's first thought was that Shade had changed his mind.

Then the pain hit.

"Who would have thought fire ants would follow us all the way from Earth-that-was?" Shade asked, moving away again. He returned with another shovel full of the biting ants, these for his abdomen, just above his ruined manhood.

Several shovels of ant infested dirt later, Shade sat down against a tree, and listened to Ghoul scream without let up. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and let the screams of pain, the pleading for mercy, soothe him as if they were music.

The music lasted a very, very long time.


	30. Chapter 30

Sins of the Past – Chapter Thirty

Writer owns no part of Firefly, and intends no infringement. He writes only to torment others. . .wait, that doesn't sound right. . . . .

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The smell of supper woke Mal from the stupor he'd been in since hitting the bed. He rose, groggy, looking around him. It took him a minute or two to process where he was. Then, everything came rushing back and he tried to leap out of bed. His leg, and back, brought him up short.

Gasping in pain, he slowed down. He gingerly walked to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. He stayed for a long time, letting the water, as hot as he could stand it, flow over his back.

Scrubbed clean, he dressed quickly and headed downstairs. He found Inara and Chelsa in the kitchen.

"Any word?" he asked. Inara shook her head.

"I've checked up along, during the day. There's no change. Kaylee finally got Simon to go home and get some sleep. Her father and mother stayed at the hospital for a while, then Sophie took their place. Gerald and Becca are there, too, to keep her company."

"Any word on Jayne?" Mal asked next. Again, Inara shook her head.

"No. Bailey called here three times, wanting to know if we'd heard from him. I'm afraid you'll have some trouble with him later," she almost grinned. "I wasn't very polite."

"Good girl," Mal returned the almost grin with his own. "Where's Liam?"

"He's looking over the grounds before we eat," Chelsa informed him. "I told him to make sure nothing was out of place, so we could eat in peace." Mal looked at her, eyebrow raised.

"Breaking him in right, I see," he joked. She shrugged.

"He would have done it anyway," she replied. "I just told him to do what he was going to do. That way he gets used to me telling him what to do," she grinned slightly.

"I see this is gonna be one dinger of a courtship," Mal shook his head. "Poor boy. Ain't right, you got all these women folk coaching you, and him all by his lonesome."

"He'll be fine," Inara and Chelsa replied in unison, then giggled. Mal was glad to see it. He had wondered if the girl would fall apart, what with River maybe. . . .

_But she ain't_, he reminded himself. _She's alive. Hurt bad, but alive. And likely to stay that way._

Mal was wracked with guilt over what had happened. Inara and Jayne had been right. He should have found a way to stop her. He _had_ tried, he was quick to remind himself. She was just stubborn enough to take out after the Ghoul on her own. He had told himself he was protecting her.

_Some protection_.

"Mal, why don't you find Liam," Inara broke into his thoughts. "We're almost ready to eat." He looked up at her, seeing that she was watching him. She was keeping him busy. He nodded.

"I'll just do that."

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Jayne stretched slightly, forcing himself to his feet. Ghoul had quit screaming thirty minutes earlier, but he had remained where he was, enjoying the solitude. Now, though, it was time to finish. He walked over to where the man who had terrorized an entire territory lay. He was still breathing, he noticed. Shame.

He could no longer speak, though. His quietness had come about as the ants did their work. There wasn't much left, but this was one thing he wasn't willing to leave to chance. Pulling a knife from his boot, Jayne leaned over the dying man.

"Well, it's been loads of fun," he said softly. Ghoul's eyes moved, and Jayne was glad. The man was still aware.

"Normally, I'd leave you to the ants," he said calmly. "But the thing is, much as I've enjoyed seein' you suffer, I got places to be. So, I'm 'fraid this is goodbye." Without any further hesitation, Jayne drew the razor sharp blade across the man's throat.

It didn't take long for him to bleed out, Jayne noted. Wasn't much left. He silently gathered his things. He made sure he'd left nothing to chance, nothing to be found. Satisfied, he took one more look at the pathetic remains of the killer, then started hiking.

He stopped after an hour, estimating that he'd traveled at least six miles. He stopped there, and burned his clothes, and his boots, then buried the remains by tossing them into a quicksand trap. He cleaned up using soap and water he'd left there for that reason, and put on clean clothes. He looked at the knife he'd used to kill Ghoul. Tying it to a large rock, he tossed it in after the clothes.

Once he was sure everything was gone, and couldn't be retrieved, he started for town.

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Toby Bontrager looked up with a start. He'd been sitting on a park bench, waiting for the latest reports from the search for the killer. He didn't expect anything, being fairly certain that he knew where the killer was.

Or at least, who had him.

One moment he was alone, the next, Cobb was standing in front of him.

"Won't find him in town," Jayne told him. Toby nodded.

"Figured as much."

"Might want to start looking out that way," Jayne told him, pointing in the general direction of the Marsh. "Might be someone seen him slipping out that way, in all the confusion. Might be, they didn't know it was important until later."

"Sounds reasonable," Toby nodded again. "Might be that, once your wife was safe, you came here to help me. Broke up like I am, was I to see 'im, might kill me was I to try and take 'im on my own." Toby looked Jayne straight in the eye as he said it. Jayne looked back for a long moment, then nodded, and sat down beside the other man.

"Sounds like somethin' I might do," he agreed.

"So you and me, we been sittin' here, or elsewhere around town, most all this time. Allowing for a catnap and nature call on occasion," Toby went on. "Me co-ordinatin' the search, and you just tryin' to help. With your wife safe, you thought it'd be the thing to do. That she'd want you to help." Jayne might have grinned at that. Might have.

"Prob'ly she would."

"Well, I've been right pleased with the company," Toby smiled. "What all have we talked about, sittin' here all this time?"

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Toby made sure that his men weren't able to find the killer for until after daylight. No, he didn't know who it was that had told them, he and Jayne, that someone had slipped away toward the Marsh. He didn't know everyone in town, after all, and Cobb, over wrought as he was, couldn't even remember what the fella looked like. Just remembered it was an average size man, with average hair. And clothes. No way he'd be able to recognize him, was he to see him again.

Bailey was furious. The slasher's body had been found, at least what was left of it, along with his 'tools'. Tools that still had River's blood on them. There was little doubt that the body they found had been the killer.

Just as there was little doubt that Cobb had been the one to kill the man. His anger finally got the better of him about an hour into talking with Cobb.

"I know you killed him!" Bailey shouted, hammering his fists down on the table that separated them. Cobb's eyes had gone flat at that. He looked up, almost sneering.

"Prove it," was all he said. Bailey had erupted again at that, but Cobb stood up, headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Bailey demanded. "We aren't done here by a long shot."

"Oh, yes we are," Jayne had told him calmly. "I'm going to see how my wife is, and speak to my brother in law. You can keep doin' whatever it is you're doin'. But I'm leavin'."

And left he had, Bailey powerless to stop him. Cobb had an air tight alibi, in the form of the newly appointed Chief Deputy. And there wasn't a shred of evidence, not one thing, that tied Cobb to the mangled body in the woods.

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Jayne walked into the hospital. Everyone was gathered in the waiting room, and came to their feet when he walked in. Simon was the first one to him.

"How is she, Simon?" Jayne asked. He knew how bad she'd been hurt. Simon didn't look too good.

"She's. . .she's recovering," he managed to say. "She's awake now, in fact. I was waiting for you before I went in to see her."

"You didn't have to do that, Simon," Jayne told him. "You should have gone ahead." Simon shook his head.

"No, I wanted us to do it together," he insisted. "I. . .I don't know what she'll be like, Jayne. She's been through a terrible ordeal. And it's far from over. She's hurt very badly. It will takes months just for her physical recovery. And that leaves aside. . . ." Simon trailed off, not wanting to mention River's mental state. Jayne nodded.

"We'll get through it," he told the smaller man. "Let's go." The two of them walked into the room River was in, each holding his breath, not knowing what to expect. River was awake, lying on her bed looking out the window. An IV bottle was in her arm, and she was hooked up to various monitors. Her head turned at the sound of the door, and she smiled.

"Simon!" she exclaimed. "She didn't know you were here." She looked at Jayne next, and his breath caught.

"Who's your friend?" River asked.

Jayne's world collapsed around him.

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"Whadha ya mean, she don't know ya?"

Mal and the others were sitting around a devastated Jayne. He was stunned, and didn't even acknowledge the question.

"River. . .River apparently fell into the same pattern she used at the Academy," Simon tried to explain. "You remember that she explained once how she managed to endure their torture. She basically isolated herself from what was happening to her. Everything became 'the girl'. It was 'the girl' who was being hurt. Tortured. But once she was free of them, she kept referring to herself in third person."

"But, she wasn't. . . ." Mal sputtered.

"No, she was only with him for a little while," Simon sighed. "But this time, the idea was already there. Already formed. In her pain, she simply fell back into it in self defense. She essentially has no memory of anything that's happened in the last three years or so. She believes that what happened to her happened at the academy, and that I managed to free her."

"Oh, Jayne," Inara placed a comforting hand on the big man's shoulder. She felt him flinch, but kept her hand where it was.

"So she ain't got no memory of her time on _Serenity_?" Kaylee asked.

"Or anything else," Simon replied, nodding to Jayne, and then to Chelsa. "It's as if her mind erased it. Everything."

Everyone was stunned. No one spoke for a long time, not knowing what to say. Chelsa spoke first.

"So. . .so. . .so she ain't gonna remember me, then, either, is she?" the girl asked, her lip trembling. Simon regarded her sadly.

"Not at the moment, no," he agreed. "But, remember, this may be temporary. It's not uncommon, in cases of severe trauma, for people to lose memories, just like this. In a few days, as things settle down, she may well remember everything."

"Or she may not ever remember at all," Jayne said quietly, his first words since leaving the hospital room.

"That's. . . .that is possible, I'm afraid," Simon agreed. "Jayne, I am so sorry. . . ." Even though hurting himself, Simon sought to comfort a man who had become closer than family.

"It's okay, Simon," Jayne smiled wanly. "I know you're hurtin' too. I just. . .I need some time. I gotta get some rest, try and just. . .wind down, I guess. Let's give it a day or so. See what happens. We can take it from there."

"Alright, Jayne," Simon nodded in agreement. "I think that's best. We should all do just that. We'll think more clearly once we're rested, fed, and a bit more rational."

"Yeah," Jayne snorted. "Rational."

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Jayne had gone back to the ship, but realized at once that was a mistake. He had sent Chelsa with Mal and Inara, and Liam had gone with them. Holly was off ship, and that left Jayne aboard _Companion_ alone.

_I shouldn'a come here_, he thought bleakly. _I'm surrounded by her. And I shouldn't have been such a bastard about her doin' all this. I shoulda spent that last night with her, not out nursin' a chip on my shoulder._

He could tell himself it wasn't his fault, and, deep down, he knew it to be true. Somehow, though, that knowledge didn't make him feel any better.

_Why couldn't she have just listened to me, just this once?_ He anguished over the lost chance to convince her not to place herself in harm's way. Again, he knew, deep down, it wouldn't have done any good.

_At least I found her in time,_ he reminded himself. She might be lost to him for good, but she was alive. And Simon would find a way to set her right, he was sure. She might not get her memories back, memories of him and her, and the girl, but she'd be able to get on with life, once she healed.

_And I guess I'll have to get on with mine,_ he admitted to himself at last. He wasn't sure what that meant, anymore. He could do anything he wanted to, he knew. He had plenty of money, and then some. Hell, he could buy a ship if he wanted, and just go cruising off into the black.

But that wasn't his way. He needed something to _do_. He couldn't sit idle. He went down to the passenger areas, and chose a bunk. He couldn't sleep in their cabin. Not tonight. Probably not ever.

_I can't stay on this ship, reminded of her every time I turn around. I can't stand it. But what about the girl? I can't just abandon her. For that matter I can't just abandon River. For better or for worse, I said. Sickness and in health. I guess this qualifies as sickness, but damned if I know how I can stay around her. She don't even know me. What the hell am I gonna do now?_

He tossed around on the bunk, his mind working in several directions at once. What he could do, what he couldn't. Where he could go, where he couldn't. There were responsibilities now that he'd never had before. His wife had amassed a fortune that few people knew of, even Simon. So far as Jayne knew, only Inara was aware of their money.

There was enough money to set the girl for life, and see to any treatments that River might ever need. Enough for him to stay ground side and start building a home for him and the girl on the ranch. Enough money, in all, to do any damn thing he wanted to do.

And he would have traded every platinum to hear River call his name, and see her running to him, arms wide.


	31. Chapter 31

Sins of the Past – Chapter Thirty One

Writer owns no part of Firefly, and intends no infringement. He writes only to torment others. . .wait, that doesn't sound right. . . . .

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"And we think that's why he was so intent on terrorizin' this parish, in particular." Mal finished his briefing for the council. It was three days since River had been injured. Things had been in an uproar for those three days, and Mal was tired. Evelyn had apparently been right.

They still didn't know who Ghoul really was, and likely never would. The brutal murder that had taken place nearly twenty years before had been a sensation then, but, as with all things, time slowly eroded the memories of such a horrific crime. Mal figured it would take more than twenty years for the Ghoul's return to fade away. There were so many unanswered questions. Who was the man, why had he killed the first girl, why had he continued to kill, all these years later? The list was endless. And would in all likelihood stay that way.

"And I want to take this opportunity to single out Evelyn for findin' all this information," he added.

"So the key to this horrible spree of murder was right under your nose the entire time, then?" Triple snorted. "I might have known."

"Yes, ma'am, you might've," Mal smiled at her, though it was far from a nice smile. "See, you, and the rest, ya'll were born and raised here. Like as not remember this happening. I had no way o' knowin', not 'til Evelyn brought it to my attention, that anything like this had ever happened before."

"Had I known," he finished, "might have made a difference."

"Are you implying. . . ."

"Oh, shut up, Marge!" Harmon Fuller snapped. Triple's face went red, but she fell silent. Fuller looked back to Mal.

"And with that," Mal looked at them, "I hereby tender you my resignation as Sheriff of Bickford Parish. The effective date isn't for another month yet, since Toby won't be really back on his feet good until then. That'll give him time to start trainin' his own replacement, and get used to bein' in charge."

"I'm sorry to see you go, Malcolm," Guilford said softly. "You've done a great deal for us."

"And got nothin' but pain and misery, and some back bitin' to show for it," Mal nodded, looking right at Triple.

"I'm afraid that's truer than I like to admit," Fuller agreed, having once been one of Mal's largest detractors.

"Well, anyway," Mal waved it all aside. "Like I said, the case is closed, and a long open cold case is closed as well. I wish we'd caught him sooner. Not just for our sake, but for everyone's."

Mal didn't look back as he left the meeting room.

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Simon saw River every day. She was healing very well, all things considered. Her mind, however, was firmly convinced that he had just rescued her from the clutches of the Academy. Jayne had not been to see her since the first time.

He didn't think he could bear it.

Chelsa had gone, once. Simon had hoped that seeing the teen would jolt River's memory. It hadn't. River had been very nice to her, but Chelsa feigned a meeting with her dad in order to leave soon after arriving. She managed to keep her tears at bay long enough to get out of the room, where Jayne wrapped her in a bear hug. He held her until her tears stopped. He didn't know what else to do.

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Mal drove up to Charles Witham's house that afternoon. When he got out of the car, he saw Witham waiting on the front porch. He limped up to stand just off the steps.

"How are you, Sheriff?" the man asked. He'd heard of what had happened to River, and knew she was like a daughter to Mal.

"I'm gettin' by, Mister Whitham," Mal answered honestly. "I came to tell you. . . ."

"You got him, I know," Whitham nodded. "Reckon everyone knows, by now."

"Well, that ain't exactly what I came to tell you," Mal looked at him. "Reckon I made you a promise, when I came to see you last. You remember?"

"I said I wouldn't hold you to it, Sheriff," Witham reminded him.

"And I appreciate that, sir," Mal nodded. "Thing is, though. . .thing is, I thought you'd want to know that he died hard." Witham looked at Mal for a long moment, and Mal refused to flinch.

"Oh?"

"Yes, sir. And when I say hard, I mean he knew gut wrenchin' pain and terror 'fore he passed. It ain't much, I know, but I thought you should know."

"Thank you," the older man said softly. "I reckon that makes me a poor Christian, bein' glad of another's sufferin', but it's a comfort to know."

"I'll be goin' sir," Mal nodded. "Like I said, I wanted you to know."

"I appreciate that, Sheriff," Witham almost smiled.

_Don't reckon he smiles much, anymore,_ Mal thought to himself as he made his way back to his car.

_Reckon I know how he feels._

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Jayne worked himself into a near stupor every day, trying to avoid any down time. If he let himself sit and think, he became despondent. Not a good thing at all, he reasoned.

Zoe had made three runs in a row to give him time to try and work through things. Much as he appreciated it, he knew it couldn't keep going like that. Orders were almost to the point that they were backing up. He'd have to decide soon what he was going to do.

That evening, he called Chelsa outside. The two of them were in this together, he figured, so she should have a say.

"I know you been wonderin' what's gonna happen now," Jayne told her. She nodded, a sudden shadow of fear crossing her face. "Well, I been wonderin' myself. I figure we need to make the decision together. I don't aim to split us up, unless that's what you want. If it is, that's fine, and I understand. 'm sure Inara or Kaylee. . . ."

"No, daddy!" Chelsa exclaimed. "I don't. . .I mean, I like them all just swell and all," she stammered. "But no, I don't want us to split up. I want to stay with you, whatever you decide." Jayne smiled slightly.

"Then that's what you'll do," he nodded, his voice ringing with finality. "Now, what are we gonna do?" Chelsa was taken aback by the question, and blinked at him.

"I. . .I don't know," she shrugged at last. "I just sorta figured we'd keep on. . .keepin' on?" Her expression drew a chuckle from Jayne. He realized it was the first time in a long while that he'd laughed, and it felt good. So good, in fact, that it turned into a laugh. Chelsa stared at him for a moment, non-plussed at the behavior. Then, suddenly, she too was laughing. Soon the two of them were almost howling with laughter, tears in their eyes.

"Oh, goodness," Chelsa said as they finally got themselves under control. "I needed that!"

"Me too, princess," Jayne nodded. "Me too. But, we still need to decide what we're aimin' to do. You want to keep on shippin' on _Companion_? It'll be hard, girl. Ever time we turn around, there's gonna be somethin' there to remind us o' what we lost."

"Maybe," the girl nodded. "But, won't that help us, too? I mean, won't having those memories make sure we never really lose her?" Jayne looked at her.

"You know, I hadn't thought about it like that," he admitted, after a moment. "I guess. . .I guess all I could think about was not bein' able to have her with us, real like. You got a good point."

"So we'll keep goin?" Chelsa asked.

"You know we'll have to get a pilot," he warned. "Least for a while. You ain't licensed. We'll see what needs doin' to get you that way. Might mean having to go live on Astra for a little while, happen they want you to have schoolin'."

"But I can fly right now!" Chelsa protested.

"Not without a licensed pilot with you, which we ain't got," Jayne shook his head. "At your age, they ain't gonna believe you can fly, and they won't be willin' to just take our word for it, neither." Chelsa's lip popped out in a pout at that.

"Don't try that on me," Jayne told her. "Ain't my rules, and I can't change'em. We'll have Inara or Zoe check into it. Maybe you can challenge the test, and go around the schoolin' part. Mind you," he added, "the schoolin' might not be a bad thing, ya know. Like as not learn a good deal there. And River won't be here to teach you no more, like before. I can't fly a kite, let alone a space ship." Chelsa giggled at that.

"I'll do whatever I have to, if it means I keep flying," she told him.

"Well, then we'll see what we'll see, I guess."

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Jayne was waiting for Zoe when _Serenity _set down the next afternoon. When she saw him waiting, she waved, and walked over to where he stood.

"How you doin', Jayne?" she asked.

"I'm makin' it, I reckon," Jayne shrugged. Zoe patted his arm briefly.

"Wanted to talk to ya 'bout the girl," Jayne told her after a minute. Zoe nodded.

"What about her?"

"We decided to stay," he said bluntly. "She wants to keep on, and I reckon that's what we'll do. Thing is, we ain't got a pilot. Girl can fly, long as nothin' don't happen, but she ain't got a license."

"Well," Zoe chewed her lip for a minute, "we'll have to see about gettin' her one, I guess. Meantime, you need a pilot." Jayne nodded.

"Let me talk this over with Mal, I guess," she told him. "Or Inara," she added with a grin. "Be more likely to get an answer from her. And she may want to fly for you a spell, comes to that. I know she misses the black, sometimes."

"That'd do fine," Jayne readily agreed. "Anyway, we're ready, all but that." Zoe nodded again.

"Might see if 'Becca wants to fly you this trip," she decided. "I won't make it an order. We're wore thin. Ain't used to workin' no more," Zoe was almost sheepish.

"I know that feelin'," Jayne agreed. "If she's willin', we can leave when ever, I guess. Let me know."

"Alright." The two parted, but Zoe looked back.

"Jayne?" He stopped, turned to face her.

"I know where you're at," she told him flatly. "Been there, done that. You need to talk, you know where I am, right?" Jayne smiled slightly at that.

"Thanks, Zo'."

"Anytime."

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"What do you think?" Wart turned to look at Susan. She was finally being released from the hospital today. She had cut her hair short, trying to make up for the fuzz just now growing back in the left side of her head. She was still about half angry about her hair, but, as Wart had pointed out, she could live with it considering the alternative.

"You're beautiful, always," he said simply. She shot him a dazzling smile. He gathered her things and the two of them started out.

"Reckon we need a job," Blade said. "I'm out of the law business. And the merc business too. For good."

"Both of us," Wart nodded.

"What are we going to do?" she asked him, more curious than worried. They had a good nest egg to see them through slow times. But it wasn't that much, and would run out in a hurry with both of them not working.

"I don't know," Wart shrugged. "But I got a good feeling. Let's just see what's what, and then consider our options."

The two of them walked outside, to find Mal and Inara waiting for them.

"Heard tell there was a beautiful woman leavin' the hospital today," Mal grinned. "And an ugly boar, too," he added, making a face at Wart.

"Har de har," Wart mumbled, but he grinned when he said it.

"What are you two doing here?" Blade asked, after taking a hug from both Mal and Inara.

"Oh, we was in the neighborhood," Mal shrugged.

"We came to see how River was doing," Inara told her, shaking her head. "And to see the two of you."

"Toby said you two had already told him you wouldn't be stayin' on," Mal looked at them. "That gonna be the case?"

"Yeah," Wart sighed. "We're done. No more work o' this kind for us. Time to think about somethin' else. Somethin' safe," he emphasized.

"Makes good sense to me," Mal nodded. "Got any prospects?"

"Not at the moment," Blade shook her head. "Just a prospect of a ride home, if you'll give us a lift."

"What we was waitin' for," Mal smiled, opening the back door of the car. "Meanwhile, what you two aim to do?"

"Got any ideas?" Wart asked.

"Well," Inara said thoughtfully, "can either of you fly?"

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Simon usually visited Jayne at least every other day or so in person. Just to see how he was. Jayne was working out when Simon arrived. He watched quietly as his brother in law worked himself into an exhausted stupor at the weight bench.

Jayne stopped, looking at the ramp. Simon almost chuckled at that. Jayne's senses were as reliable as any gift River had been born with.

"Hello, Jayne," Simon called, walking onto the ship.

"Hey, Simon," Jayne nodded. "Everything okay?"

"She's fine, other than. . . ." Simon trailed off.

"Yeah," Jayne nodded. "So how you makin' it, Simon?"

"Day by day," Simon shrugged. "There's nothing I can do, right now, anyway. She has to heal physically before we can try and mend her in other ways. It will be several more days before she's even allowed on her feet." Jayne nodded. He knew how badly she was injured.

"We haven't really had a chance to talk, just the two of us," Simon said, taking a seat on a shipping crate. "I wanted to ask you something. . . ."

"He suffered," Jayne said softly. "In ways you can't imagine. Not enough, ta my mind, for what he did. But he suffered." Simon nodded.

"As a doctor, I should be appalled, I guess," the young doctor sighed. "But I can't be. Not this time. I wish I had been there to see it, sometimes. And once in a while, I wish I had done it myself." He paused before adding, "I honestly don't know if I can keep doing what I do with that frame of mind." Jayne looked at him.

"What? What the hell are you talking about?" the larger man stood, towering over his brother in law.

"Jayne, my oath. . . ."

"Don't mean nothin', and I mean _nothin'_, weighed alongside your family, Simon," Jayne ground out. "You was raised in a polite society. All fancy and straight and proper. I'm convinced was you still in the core, you'd be on your way to becoming an important man, if you wasn't already. But out here," Jayne's arm swept the surroundings off the ship, "here, it's different. There ain't nothin' wrong with your attitude, Simon. You're a damn good doctor, and I'm willin' to bet there ain't another like you in this _system_, let alone on this moon." He stopped for a minute, taking a deep breath.

"People need you, Simon," he continued more calmly. "They need you. You've done more good in your time here, and on the boat, than you would have ever done in the Core. You've touched the lives of people you ain't never to see again, and they're better for it. I don't want to hear anymore, _ever_, 'bout you ain't fittin' to be a doc. You got that?" Simon gaped at him for a moment, then suddenly, he smiled.

"You complimented me, Jayne."

"Yeah, well," Jayne seemed flustered suddenly, "don't get accustomed." Then, just as suddenly, he grinned too. Simon stood, shaking his head.

"I want you to know," he said suddenly, "even if River. . .if she never. . .what I mean to say is, Jayne. . . ."

"We'll always be family, Simon," Jayne nodded.

"Yes, that was. . .yes," Simon stopped finally.

"Whatever she needs, she gets," Jayne said suddenly, clearing the air of the sentiments both men felt. "Cost ain't no object. If she don't never remember the two of us being married, it don't change nothin'. She gets the best care you can get her. The one thing we got is money." Simon frowned.

"What?"

Jayne studied him a moment, then shrugged.

"Book left me a pile o' money when he died," he said softly. "And I mean a pile. I'll spend every penny of it on her, if that's what it takes." It was only partly the truth, but Jayne couldn't bring himself to share River's secrets with anyone. Not even Simon. He'd have to think on that some more, first. His own secret, he figured, wasn't an issue anymore.

"I had no idea," Simon shook his head. "Why. . .why did you stay?" The look on Simon's face was one of pure bewilderment.

"Book asked me to."

And it was that simple. Someone close to Jayne, someone he trusted, had asked him to. "To look out for all of you. Said it was my moral obligation, or some such."

"And you. . .you just did it?"

"Yes."

"You never cease to amaze me, Jayne," Simon was shaking his head. Suddenly, his head snapped up.

"Yes," Jayne nodded. "I gave the money to Kaylee's family. I'd rather you didn't tell her."

"Jayne, that was. . .that was fifty thousand platinum!"

"A tithe," the bigger man shrugged. "A drop o' water from a lake.

They needed it. I didn't."

"My great stars," Simon was shaking his head. "Jayne Cobb, Secret Santa."

"I'd really rather she not know," Jayne repeated. "I know you would have figured it out, and I had to tell you about the money sooner or later, because of River. But ain't no need o' Kaylee and her kin knowin' where that money came from."

"I won't tell," Simon assured him. "That was an incredibly nice, generous thing you did, Jayne." Jayne shrugged.

"Kaylee reminds me a lotta my sister," Jayne said softly. "Always had a soft spot for her. Reminded me o' home." Simon started at that.

"I. . .I had no idea."

"No one else does, either," Jayne told him. "Keep it that way."

"I will. I hate to go, Jayne, but I need to check on. . . ."

"Go, and take care. We'll ship out tomorrow, they find us a pilot. See you when we get back, that happens."

"Why?" Simon asked, confused. "Why are you still working?"

"Girl wants to," Jayne said honestly. "Can't take it from her. Not now, no way. Mebbe after a while." Simon nodded. He had really underestimated the man before him.

"Fly safe, Jayne."

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Jayne was surprised to see Mal's car pulling up to the pad the next morning. He was even more surprised to see Blade and Wart with Mal, and Inara.

"Mornin' Jayne," Mal called. Jayne nodded.

"Mornin', Captain." Mal didn't miss the fact that it was 'Captain' again, but said nothing. He figured he deserved it.

"You ready to fly?" Mal asked.

"Ready as can be, 'thout no pilot," Jayne nodded. "We're loaded already. Zoe said somethin' 'bout Becca takin' us."

"I'm going," Inara told him, holding up her travel bag.

"So are we, beef head," Wart told him. "I want the fuss kept to a minimum, too, or I'll gnaw your ear off."

"Where ya headed?"

"To the galley, idjit," Wart told him. "I'm hungry." Jayne watched Wart disappear up the stairs, then looked back at Mal.

"Found a new pilot, and a new hand," Mal smiled.

"What about Liam?" Jayne asked.

"Ain't replacin' him," Mal shook his head. "Blade ain't in no shape for no tussel at the moment, and Inara will be teachin' her the finer points o' flyin' this fine vessel. And keepin' little one caught up, too," he added.

"Once Susan gets the hang of things," Inara told him, "then I'll be gone. It will be time for me to open my school, by then."

"Huh," was all Jayne could come up with.

"Well, I hate to leave good company," Mal said, giving Inara a kiss and a hug, "but I got a lot of people I need to irritate today, seein' as how I won't be Sheriff much longer."

"Makin' friends all the time, ain't ya, Mal?" Jayne shook his head. And suddenly, for just a moment, it was like old times. The moment passed, but he was grateful for it.

No more so than Mal, however.

"I'll leave you to it," Mal said, heading for his car. "Fly safe, _ai ren_."

"Will do," Inara assured him. Blade gathered her things and started for the passenger dorms. Inara waited, wanting to speak to Jayne alone.

"Is this alright with you, Jayne?" she asked. He looked at her, and smiled just a bit.

"Reckon since you're practically the owner, it'll just have to be, now won't it," he replied, the slight smile growing into a grin.

"Life does go on," Inara reached out and touched his arm.

"So it does," Jayne agreed, closing the ramp up. "So it does. And we keep on keepin' on."

FF FF FF FF FF FF FF FF FF FF FF FF FF FF FF

_And so this story of revenge comes to an end. Will River ever recover? I don't know. Is this the end of the Shade 'verse? I don't know that either. _

_I do have an idea for one more story, if River can regain her memory. I won't promise another, since every time I make you a promise about fanfic it flops. It's honestly not always my fault. Really. If you'd like another story, let me know. The only reason I do fanfic, at least anymore, is because people enjoy it. If you aren't enjoying it, then I'm not doing it right, and there's no point boring you._

_I had no idea, so many years ago, when I wrote the first Shade fic that it would grow into so large a story. It literally took on a will of it's own, growing in my mind, and on the computer screen, until the depth of the story, and the characters seemed almost to come to life in my head. It's been an incredible journey, and one that I wouldn't have made without all of you, and your encouragement. _

_Meanwhile, don't forget my blog. I plan to add the first few chapters of another novel I'm working on, since my first is finished, and in the editing stage. After that, it will go to the publisher for the first in what I figure will be a long line of 'thanks anyway' letters, lol. But you never know._

_Thanks to all of you for your comments, compliments, criticisms, and most of all, your patience. _

Bad Karma

badkarma00(DOT)wordpress(DOT)com


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